


Pitching Woo

by SBG



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBG/pseuds/SBG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Danny pitches (and then accidentally catches) woo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This utter ridiculousness was meant to be short. Somehow, it isn't. I think it pitched woo at me and I am in a susceptible place in my life right now, okay? 
> 
> There is many a mention of Steve/Cath in this story, but ultimately, it's a Steve/Danny fic. 
> 
> Thank you, as always, to [LdyAnne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LdyAnne) and [annieke](http://archiveofourown.org/users/annieke) for the support, for finding silly errors and being amazing people.

H50H50H50

Danny glanced up from his desk just as Catherine beat what seemed to him a hasty retreat from the office. It was rare enough she stopped by HQ without in some way providing intel for a case of Five-0’s so that she had today was something of a red flag. What really piqued his interest was the expression on her face as she left now, without so much as a by-your-leave for Steve and with half a wave to the rest of them. She was usually very friendly, very polite and always made sure to say hello and goodbye. From the glimpse he got, she looked amused and consternated at the same time today, and uncertain of which emotion she should stick with. He could relate to that so, so well, having had no choice over the past two years but to spend copious amounts of time with her worse half, the lovable but sometimes half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf herder that was Steven J. McGarrett. 

For some reason, one he would probably live to regret, he had an impulse to get up and follow Catherine out the door. He usually had fair impulse control, yet Danny found himself moving before he could even suss out why. He trailed after Cath as she hit the atrium and moved for the front exit at a fast clip, weaving through foot traffic made heavy by people coming and going from lunch breaks or mid-day appointments in the court offices. 

“Hey, Cath,” Danny called. “Hold up a second.”

Catherine turned at the sound of his voice, and it was then he finally recognized the expression. Danny felt like he was fifteen again, and it was Frannie Turkel looking at him like that, except, of course, the cause of Catherine’s expression wasn’t him; he was just seeing the residual effect. It had taken him months to figure out what Frannie’s face meant and a bit longer than that to admit what it meant in part was that he was an idiot. He could look back and realize it was because at the time he’d been all hormones and had zero finesse for the finer points of human emotion, specifically in female humans. Trust McGarrett to have the emotional capacity of a fifteen-year-old. The guy had probably just started to figure everything out when his life had been ripped apart by the loss of his mother and rejection of his father. The idea of the poor kid out there without father or mother to turn to made Danny distinctly unhappy.

“Danny, do you need something?” Catherine asked, warm but with a touch of resignation. 

She sounded like a woman used to being asked for things, and like she wasn’t getting a big enough return on her investment of skill, energy and time. Not so oddly, Danny found himself relating to that as well.

“No. I don’t need anything from you. I just came to check and see if you’re okay.” Danny thumbed back toward Five-0’s offices. “I know what he can be like. You can tell me to shove it since this is none of my business, but what’d he do this time?”

Her face softened almost instantly into a smile, the consternation vanishing from her expression completely in favor of the kind of wry amusement that came with knowing one was in the company of someone who understood. She shook her head.

“He never does anything on purpose.” She pursed her lips, as if she hadn’t meant to say that. “It was just a miscommunication. I thought we had lunch plans. It turns out we didn’t.”

“Ah,” Danny said. He felt a little bad about that. He was the one who voted for an early lunch and dragged Steve with him. “I’m sorry. If I’d have known you guys had a date…”

Catherine held up a hand and cut him off. “I’m not even sure it was a date. Besides, it’s not your fault. You’re not the keeper of him or his calendar.”

“Neither are you.”

“Don’t I know it,” Cath said with a smile that wasn’t as forgiving anymore.

See, the thing with Frannie back when he was fifteen was that she had liked him. As in liked him, liked him, and he hadn’t read any of her cues the right way. When she asked if he was going to the game on Friday, she meant she wanted him to ask her to go. When she suggested they study for AP chemistry, she meant she wanted some hands-on exploration of their chemistry and, also, biology. He hadn’t known how to read the cues, if he were going to be frank, because he wasn’t always as insightful and sensitive as he was now, especially when it came to understanding that sometimes foreign language women seemed to possess. He now knew that men and women spoke the same language, but he thought men read right to left, women left to right. It was simply a matter of doing a little work and flipping perspective, and then _voila_ , language translated.

“It’s too bad, because if anyone needs a keeper, it’s Steve,” Danny said.

“You might be right.” She smiled, but gave him a long look. “I think you’re too modest, though. You might be the closest thing to it.”

“God, kill me now if that is true. Please, I beg you.”

Catherine laughed.

As Danny well knew, Steve had no insight or sensitivity to any of his interpersonal relations at all, let alone romantic ones, and so it was no stretch that the guy sucked at being a boyfriend. Even without knowing that, looking at Catherine told him most of what he needed to know. He had always assumed his partner’s abysmal grasp on social norms was due to Steve going from football hero to all-American patriot without any sort of real-life pitstop, but now having met his undead mother, he figured the lack of social skills was at least partially genetic.

“Buy you a plate?” Danny asked after Catherine’s laughter died, though, yes, he had eaten the same time Steve had. 

“I’m pretty sure you already had lunch.” This time it was Catherine who thumbed back toward the offices. “With you-know-who.”

Danny felt bad for Catherine being stuck with a man with delinquent people skills, but he also felt bad for Steve for ending up that way. The idea forming in his head was probably not advisable, but it did explain why he’d felt the need to follow Catherine in the first place. He ruefully thought about how his desire to help people in the public sense came from his father’s devotion to civil service, but his desire to help them on a personal level, perhaps too much so, came from his mother’s desire to stick her nose into everyone’s business. As far as he knew, his mom hadn’t caused any irreversible damage with her meddling and most people got sloppily fond looks on their faces when they recounted a time Naomi Williams had offered them advice. In for a penny, he thought.

“I did, but Commander Food Monitor managed to make it seem like there wasn’t time for dessert when I firmly believe there is always time for something sweet. Humor me.” Danny took Catherine by the elbow and walked with her out of the building. “Besides, it turns out I could use some information only you can provide after all.”

H50H50H50

“I thought you should know that you’re doing it all wrong,” Danny said, and sat down in one of the chairs in front of Steve’s desk with a tired sigh. “I mean, someone had to tell you eventually and you know how I am about not being able to keep my mouth shut when I see a wrong that needs righting, so I figured I might as well be the one to do it.”

He’d waited till the end of the day to start this, wanted no witnesses of the Kalakaua or Kelly variety due to the nature of the experiment, but once he’d committed he had decided quick and to the point was the way to go. Steve might have once joked about him being the one to not get subtlety, however that wasn’t true. Danny got subtlety just fine. He simply ignored it when he didn’t feel like dealing. Steve, though, if Steve understood the finer points of communication, then Danny would not be about to step into what was probably going to be a giant mess which would ultimately result in a happy ending. At least for Catherine. With any luck, if he did it right. 

“What?” Steve said. He looked up from the paperwork he was pretending to examine closely, all confused like a puppy, complete with a head tilt Danny was fairly sure had been ripped off directly from him. “You can’t critique my report when you haven’t even seen it.”

“First of all, I don’t have to see any of your reports to know exactly what needs critiquing in them.” He waved his hands in what he considered the universal sign for _duh_. “Though I will grant you that you’ve become much more adept at selective exclusion and truth-bending of the slightly less legal ways and means of which we have far less official access to these days than we used to. Second of all, I wasn’t talking about the report.”

Steve stared at him. Just stared for a good long few seconds until he made an impatient gesture with his hands and straightened his shoulders as if bracing himself for an attack. Which, yeah, kind of.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What did you mean? Exactly what is it that you think I’m doing all wrong?”

Danny chewed on his lip for a second as he took in the scowl aimed at him. For a moment, he almost decided to do a one-eighty and back right out of the plan. That would be the smart thing to do, to avoid the headache and possible punch to the jaw. Then he thought about Catherine’s Frannie Turkel face and that put him back on course. Before speaking with her, he’d suspected the goof on the other side of the desk was shortchanging her, but after he was stone cold certain. 

“The boyfriend thing,” Danny said bluntly. “You’re terrible at it. I mean, truly, it pains me to have to tell you that. You’ve come a fair way with regular person-to-person interaction, sometimes, on occasion, but the romance thing, not so much. I hate to break it to you, babe, but I’m almost one hundred percent positive you’ve gotten by this far in life without some sort of guidance based solely on your ridiculous good looks – yes, I said it, you’re an attractive man – but handsome will only get you so far when you’re in a relationship.”

Danny was no stranger to admiring the male form. To say Steve was striking was an understatement, but, truthfully, he was more than attractive in a physical sense. A close inspection of McGarrett would reveal flaws that somehow did not matter in the end. The asshole was magnetic even when he was acting like a complete jerk. It was totally unfair. 

“I … what?” Steve said, eyebrows crinkling into funny little shapes that all but screamed the whole attractive without being attractive bit. 

“Relationship. You know, the thing you and Catherine are in that you refuse to acknowledge, which, by the way, demonstrates what I’m talking about perfectly. Pay attention and try to keep up.”

“Danny, get to your point.” Steve exhaled loudly through his nose, like a bull getting ready to charge. “I assume you have one. It’s either that or I’m hallucinating and you need to get me to the hospital, because I thought I heard the guy whose girlfriend ran off to Bora Bora or whatever implying that I’m bad at being a boyfriend.”

Ouch, that stung a little bit. He refused to show on his face the guilt he felt about missing last week’s call with Gabby, or that maybe those sessions were getting shorter and less frequent the longer she was … no, this was not about him, damn it.

“Hey, that’s below the belt, buddy. Gabby is _working_ right now. What, I should hold her back from her professional aspirations? I don’t think so. That would be a bad boyfriend move,” Danny snapped. This was going about as well as he should have anticipated. He mimicked Steve’s raging bull exhalation and held up a hand. “This isn’t … Let me start over. I want to help you be a better boyfriend for the ultimate goal of helping Catherine, because she is a very nice woman who deserves a bit more than it seems you’re giving her. I figured maybe you really just didn’t know how, given your...”

Danny flapped a hand to encompass all of Steve’s issues in one wordless swoop. By the way Steve’s face was locked in that angry horror, this had been a bigger mistake than he could possibly have pictured and how the hell did his mother manage to be a buttinsky and still be alive to tell the tales? How the hell had he convinced himself this was a good idea? He was starting to feel like a Grade-A jerk, but he was too stubborn to back down now.

“You talked to Cath about this? You are unbelievable.”

“No, of course not. Not directly.” Danny honestly couldn’t remember if he’d explained to Catherine why he’d needed testimonial evidence of Steve’s inept dating techniques. He didn’t think so. “Well, maybe, kind of. But it wouldn’t matter if I did or didn’t. I have eyes. You think I don’t know I interrupted your high school seduction attempt twice a while back, huh? As you were busy trying to usher me out the door – not as subtly as you thought, I might add – Catherine was encouraging me to sit and stay awhile.” 

“Seriously,” Steve said, “what is even happening right now?”

Danny stood and paced a bit, primarily for the advantage of already being on his feet if he had to run. 

“You think about what that might mean, Cath lending me her ear and offering me a place on your sofa,” Danny said. “That sure as hell wouldn’t happen if you were doing it right. That’s all I’m saying. That, and if I help you figure out how to get past your teenage moves, both you and she benefit. It’s win-win.”

Steve raging-bulled him again, all silent and broody as he stared with his head tipped down and eyes dark. Danny wasn’t going to lie. The look was intimidating as hell, even if he knew the man beneath the glower was his goofy friend. Had been. Oh, crap. He took a deep breath.

“I think you should leave now.” Steve clenched his hands into fists and placed them knuckle down on the desk. “I’ve suddenly got a hundred and fifty pound monkey on my back that I need to shake and I would hate to see you accidentally hurt.”

Danny winced. Outside of their first day working together, that was the first time Steve had even hinted at some kind of physical altercation. As far as threats went, it wasn’t too understated. He had to call his mother, he thought, to find out some insider tips on how to interfere without anyone getting hurt. Or, maybe, give up the helpful friend routine. After all, he was a one hundred and fifty pound monkey with delusions. Terrible combo.

“Okay, I’ll go, but ask yourself these things and come find me if you change your mind,” Danny said and he didn’t know why he kept going with this clearly taboo subject. “When was the last time you called Catherine for more than help on one of our cases or a booty call? When was the last actual date you took her on? And, no, Kamekona’s truck doesn’t count.”

Danny wasn’t too proud to admit that his exit from the office was more like flight. He made quick work of clearing his desk with the intent of getting the hell out of there without any more contact with Steve. Jesus. Not only had it been a stupid idea to start with, it might have wrecked their carefully balanced partnership. A pit formed in his stomach. He could only hope Steve’s irritation would be temporary. It was hard to tell with the guy. Some things rolled off, some things turned into personal blood feuds. He didn’t think the latter was likely. He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to face a McGarrett grudge over this.

“You might have a point,” Steve said from the doorway where he stood all tight lines and stiff shoulders. He sounded pissed, his words almost staccato.

“Jesus,” Danny said, clutching at his chest for a moment. Steve didn’t bat an eyelash at the implied near heart attack. “Oh. Uh. Good, thank you. I’m glad you came to see that so quickly.”

“Well, if there’s a problem with me, then I want it fixed as fast as possible.” Steve shrugged and he was so wound up it looked like it physically pained him. “If I agree to your help, what exactly is does this plan entail?”

All right. Hmm. This was a thing he was hesitant to say, but what the hell.

“I need to start at the beginning. Take me out and show me what you’d typically call a date with Catherine so I can see how bad this really is firsthand?”

Steve’s angry face morphed into shock, or maybe amusement, but then the anger slid back into place.

“You want to _date_ me?” 

“No. Don’t be stupid,” Danny said quickly. “No.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Well, it _isn’t_ that.” Apparently scowling was a contagious affliction. Danny was getting a bit pissed by this caveman reaction and was starting to think Catherine had better appreciate this intrusion of his when all was said and done. “This is anthropological data gathering. I will pitch woo the way it should be pitched and you will catch it until you’re ready to pitch it yourself.”

Even as the words were leaving his mouth he knew they were the wrong things to say, but he could not stop. His ears were probably bright red. He was not going to reach up and gauge how hot they felt against his fingertips.

“That’s … a lot of pitching and catching,” Steve said dryly. 

“Don’t. It’s a phrase.” Danny cleared his throat. “Say, Saturday? Pick me up at eight. Don’t treat it as anything outside of what you’d normally do.”

“Fine,” Steve said.

“Fine!” Danny yelled at Steve’s back as the guy barreled out of HQ, then muttered under his breath, “Good. This is not going to be a disaster at all.”

H50H50H50

Steve was twenty minutes late and counting.

Danny paced from the door to the sofa and back again, felt his ire rise with each passing turn. He was a cop. He understood a fluid, demanding schedule better than most would, the possibility of something coming up to prevent plans to unfold as intended, but Steve was his partner and if work had interfered he’d know about it. He also understood the concepts of a phone and common courtesy, two things about which Steve apparently had forgotten. It was altogether possible the guy had decided to back out. He probably hadn’t ever planned on following through, and Danny should have been suspicious about how quickly he’d agreed to it. Nothing about Steve was easy.

It didn’t really matter why Steve was late or absent, Danny was more pissed off about it than he should be. After all, this wasn’t an actual date and he’d told Steve to act as he normally would. And apparently, it was normal for Steve to be late for a pre-planned date-like event. He paced a little more as he tried to decide how to proceed. _Fuck it_ , he thought after two more rotations, and pulled out his cell, which conveniently started to ring just as he removed it from his pocket. McGarrett’s name flashed on the screen and Danny fought the petty urge to click reject on the guy’s late, sorry ass. He let out a disgruntled huff of breath and hit accept.

“You’re late,” Danny said. 

“Well, hello to you too,” Steve said, more of a drawl really, and it was obvious he was smiling. “Is that any way for you to greet your date for the evening? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were upset.”

“You’re as charming as always.”

“I do what I can, and what can I say? It comes naturally. McGarretts are known throughout history for their charm.”

The annoying thing was, it did seem natural. Somehow, he didn’t know how, the anger that had been building in him started to fade the second he imagined the stupid grin on Steve’s face. Instead of taking that as a gigantic insight into why whatever Steve was doing worked well enough, Danny felt even more compelled to show Steve how regular people did things. It had to be true that a pretty face and a smile couldn’t last forever in a relationship, or he was going to be very disillusioned with his lot in life. Besides, it was a truth universally acknowledged that he was a stubborn person and not likely to give up just like that. 

“I assume you have a reasonable explanation for standing me up,” Danny said, modulating his voice into an even tone. “Are you afraid I might be able to teach you something?”

“Not afraid.”

“Did you have an emergency to deal with?”

“No emergency.”

“Was Doris around?”

“Nope.”

Danny fisted his left hand and raised it in aggravation. After a couple of years with Steve as a partner, he knew the guy and he knew this was Steve riling him up. He wasn’t about to give Steve the satisfaction of letting that reflect through the phone as transparently as Steve’s shenanigans were right now. Of course, he knew that he was a terrible actor and Steve was a trained Naval Intelligence officer and SEAL and could probably see right through him.

“Are we going to do this all night, Steven?”

“Only if you want to, Daniel.” The smile in Steve’s voice had changed subtly, his enjoyment gallingly obvious. “I have the stamina if you do.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s so nice of you to take what was an earnest gesture on my part and turn it into a joke.” Danny took a deep breath. So much for playing it cool. He was a terrible actor, yes, and he was also awful at island time and that whole laidback nonchalance everyone on this rock seemed to possess. “You had a choice and you agreed to this. If you changed your mind, that’s fine. It’s no skin off my teeth, buddy, I was just trying to do you a favor by increasing the shelf life of your relationship. I thought you might have been interested in that, but if not, then say no more. It’s done. Back to the status quo we go.”

Steve was silent on the other end of the line, which Danny took as a cue. He ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket, again far more upset about it than he should be. He took a deep breath, shook it off and rolled his eyes. It had been a stupid plan anyway. Catherine was on her own and she was definitely more than capable. She’d probably kick his ass if she knew what he was doing, anyway.

As for him, it looked like it was leftover takeout, a few beers and a re-run of _48 Hours Mystery_ for him tonight. So, another Saturday night and he ain’t got nobody. Perfect. He wandered to the fridge and stared at the pathetic, dried-out offerings. The truth of the matter was, he’d kind of been looking forward to a night out, even if it was with Steve. Food tasted better when there was someone to share it with. He cracked open the closest takeout box and cringed at the shrimp fried rice that had barely been edible yesterday when it was fresh. He bypassed all of the containers and snared the jar of grape jelly he had for Grace. He was just about to pull the peanut butter from the cupboard when his phone vibrated. With a sigh, he set the jelly jar down so he could retrieve the text.

_I’m sorry. I’m sincerely sorry. I have steaks. Come?_

Danny wanted to say no on principle, but his stomach grumbled and a quick look at the loaf of bread showed fuzzy green mold at the butt end. Steak always trumped PB&J anyway. 

_Beer?_ he texted back.

_Out. Bring if you want._

He paused. He had every intention of going to Steve’s, the lure of steak too great, but he didn’t need the guy thinking he could get off so readily. Steve might not have had the easiest of lives in some regards, but Danny thought squeaking out of improper behavior with a wink and a smile wasn’t one of them. He put the jelly back in the fridge, then drummed his fingers against the countertop for a bit before he responded. It was passive-aggressive and beyond pointless, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

_Be there in a few._

He got a stupid, winky smiley face in return.

He decided before he even made it to the car to skip the beer, for a multitude of reasons but mostly because he was famished. His growling stomach seemed like a direct link to his pedal foot and he made great time. Danny wasn’t surprised that McGarrett’s door was unlocked, or that the smell of grilling meat drew him out onto the _lanai_. Steve was wearing board shorts, a ratty tee and flip-flops. He looked nothing like a man who’d expected to be on a date demonstration. Danny was irritated all over again. 

“Hey,” he said.

Steve turned, eyed Danny, frowned and said, “No beer?”

“You said if I wanted. Besides, he who stands up a mock-date deserves no free beer.”

“Ah, that’s how it’s going to be.” Steve’s eyes were filled with mirth easily visible even in the muted light. 

“That is how it is going to be,” Danny said, tilting his head to the side and shoving his hands into his pockets.

Steve shrugged and returned his attention to the grill, upon which the steaks looked to be almost ready to flip. 

Danny frowned at the back of his partner’s head for a moment. Something was pinging him about Steve, but he didn’t know what yet. He wandered back into the kitchen and started pulling together ingredients for a salad, knowing how much Steve would appreciate the leafy greens. Working with the butter lettuce, spinach, red onions and cherry tomatoes, rabbit food that it was, ended up making him even hungrier. He pulled out a bottle of homemade vinaigrette, popped the lid and gave it a sniff to see if he’d be able to stomach it. It passed muster. Doris must have made it, because he’d had one of Steve’s concoctions before and, no. He shook the bottle with a haphazard rhythm.

“Oh, good,” Steve said, having entered the room silently. 

Danny didn’t almost drop the dressing and he refused to believe that for a moment as he’d turned, Steve’s eyes were on his ass for any other reason but to make him react negatively. He didn’t so much as blink. He did pick up the bowl of greens.

“Salad was a good idea, thanks. I thought we’d eat in here.” Steve bobbed his head and started walking. “Normally, it’d be a beach thing, but the sun set a few hours ago now.”

“Beach thing?” Danny asked as he followed Steve into the dining area, salad and dressing cruet in either hand. “What are you…?”

The table was set, a bottle of red wine already uncorked to breathe and holy hell, Steve was flicking a Bic at a pair of white taper candles.

“ _This_ is your date?”

“Don’t you like it, Danno?” Steve batted his eyelashes and plopped unceremoniously onto a chair. “I did it all for you.”

“So, you weren’t standing me up.”

“Nope.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

“You didn’t give me much of a chance, motor mouth. I would have told you the reason I didn’t pick you up was that I realized Catherine – and anyone, really,” Steve said with a chaser of that infuriating smile, “always comes to me. You said you wanted a firsthand experience.”

“You are an arrogant asshole, aren’t you?” 

He dropped the salad bowl onto the table and realized he’d forgotten the tongs. Danny stomped back into the kitchen and rooted around until he found what he was looking for, all the while making as much noise as he could. He held them aloft, like he was brandishing a sword and pointed them at Steve as he reentered the dining room, full of righteous indignation for all of the Catherines in Steve’s dating history. 

“You can’t expect people to be at your beck and call just because you’re too damned lazy to leave the house. It’s shitty and disrespectful. You’re saying this actually works for you? You’re the sun and they all revolve around you, huh?”

“Hey, Danny.” Steve forked a steak onto Danny’s plate. “Far be it from me to point out the obvious, but I got you here, didn’t I?”

“Wow,” Danny said, certain that if he were a cartoon character, then the sketch had now reached the point when steam would billow from his ears. 

Steve laughed, and fuck if it wasn’t as charming as it was exasperating.

H50H50H50

Steve had been almost unbearable all day, and sneaky about it. He was his usual self around Chin and Kono but downright smug when he knew Danny was near, or even looking his direction. As always, he tried not to let it get to him. It took a staggering effort to not unload on the guy in the middle of the offices, though, his usual ranting style made unavailable to him by virtue of not wanting anyone else to know why he was irritated. It was bad enough Steve was being annoying, he could just imagine how amused the others would be to hear he’d volunteered to be a dating coach.

Unfortunately, their day went nothing like most of their days did; instead of high action and stupid criminals, it was so quiet tumbleweeds might as well have rolled through the operations room and past his office, where he tried to stay holed up as much of the day as he could, for his own sanity. 

Meanwhile, McGarrett made sanity difficult because difficult was McGarrett’s middle name. He fairly preened when the FedEx delivery woman swooned at his cheesy conversation and left him with her phone number as well as a package. He smiled his way into a complimentary Zip Pac at lunch and then conveniently forgot his drink, which Danny had to pay for along with his own meal and schlep over to the guy. Steve even got Kono to do his filing, a miracle if ever there was one because rookie or no, Kono should have called that out as gender role stereotyping but instead simply returned Steve’s smile and took the paper pile without a word of protest.

The thing was, he had Steve figured out. Danny didn’t doubt for a second that part of the whole _shtick_ of not having to work all that hard for it was true; none of the show-and-tell throughout the course of the day was necessary on that point. But he also didn’t doubt that Steve had specifically pulled that bullshit on him Friday in an attempt to make him back off. Hah. If anything, the little they-all-come-hither act had enough _chutzpah_ that it made him want to demonstrate the error of Steve’s ways even more. 

Steve was running a sprint, getting what he wanted via charisma when and how it suited him. Relationships were marathons. Relationships were about what more than one person wanted. Danny knew that eventually the guy was going to run out of steam and someone had to make him see that. When reality bit Steve didn’t much care for it, and this reality would come with losing out on a woman most men could only dream of.

Truthfully, that had become a secondary concern to him. His bleeding heart still felt for Catherine, it did, but now Danny primarily wanted to prove Steve wrong, and his competitive streak had cranked to high gear. There was no turning back now. It would take something huge for him to stop.

“I really appreciate you taking the time to drop the file off personally,” Steve said loudly to a pretty young woman as he escorted her to the exit.

Somehow, Steve managed to make the route to the door go right past Danny’s office. How very circuitous of him. He had a hand on the small of the woman’s back, and just when Danny looked up, Steve peered into the office at him with a shit-eating grin lighting up his whole handsome face.

“Oh,” the woman said, cheeks pinking. “It was no problem. Anytime.”

Jesus and Barbie on a wedding cake, this was getting out of hand. He had no idea what that was all about, and didn’t care. For all he knew, Steve had paid that poor woman to come in just so he could show off his game. Danny tipped his head at Steve upon his saunter back through the offices, a cue Steve easily read. He made a beeline for Danny’s office, leaned just on the inside of the door.

“Is there something I can help you with, Danny? You’ve been awfully quiet all day.”

Danny pushed away from the desk and hurried to shut the door. He wasn’t the only one to notice Steve’s antics. He caught Chin shooting a sidelong glance his way, shook his head and gave a grim little smile at Chin’s shoulder shrug. 

“And you’ve been acting like a complete moron all day,” Danny said. 

He poked Steve in the arm until the other man slid away from the wall and instead found a now customary perch on the edge of Danny’s desk. Steve simply looked at him with amusement sparkling in his eyes and that stupid grin. That stupid grin was never going away, apparently.

“You wound me,” Steve said. He batted his eyelashes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No, you don’t?” Danny ran a hand through his hair. “This thing I now almost regret starting isn’t about me impugning your manhood or your damned hunting prowess. You can get the ladies. I get it. We all get it. You’re the fucking Don Juan of O’ahu.”

“Don Juan, hmm, I’ll take it as a supplemental nickname to Smooth Dog. You know, the call name I got for _reasons_.” Steve quirked an eyebrow. “So, you agree I don’t need your kindly offered help.”

“No. No, I do not agree to that at all.” Danny pointed at that smiling face, circled his finger around. “Knock it off with all the grinning. You’re a smart guy, so I know you understand this. You’re just being purposely obtuse.”

“Again with the insults, Danny.”

“Shut up. I’ll say it one more time, one more way. It’s not about procurement. It’s about retention. Do you or do you not want to keep Catherine? Because I gotta say, your shenanigans today have been noticed, my friend.” Danny pointed out at Chin. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Cath gets wind of it, and imagine how she’ll feel when she knows her supposed boyfriend is doing his level best at collecting as many phone numbers as possible, all the while shtupping her like you two are exclusive. Boyfriends don’t collect phone numbers, Steve.”

Steve actually blinked at that, his smile faltered and the loose-limbed slouch he had going on traded up for a posture closer to military at ease. 

“Oh,” Steve said. 

“Yes.” Danny smiled, feeling a bit of a shift in this little power play. “Oh.”

It was a start. At the very least, it gave Danny some ground, something to work with. It didn’t look like Steve had put much thought about what his Lothario act would look like to anyone who wasn’t in the know about the motivating factors, the way Danny was. No one else would know it was nothing more than the puff and ruffle of a damn peacock showing his strut just because he was, on occasion, a major asshole.

“So, you can get the ladies lined up around the corner. That has been well documented and established. Can we move on from that now, maybe?”

Steve nodded at him and chewed on the inside of his lip. He looked incredibly thoughtful and almost kind of sweet. Already, Danny could see this would be worth it, based on that look alone. Catherine deserved someone thoughtful, and so far in this venture Steve hadn’t shown much of that. The candlelight dinner would have been a nice touch and all, but for the fact it was a complete and total ploy. He didn’t want to get bogged down in thoughts of how often Steve employed the ends justifying the means when it came to him and Catherine. No, no need to picture that. At all. It was best to focus on the potential in non-specific ways and he had to believe somewhere in Steve was boyfriend material, or he’d already lost. Danny didn’t like to lose any more than Steve did.

“Let’s work on your basic skills, and maybe you can progress from admitting to having a _thing_ to embracing the idea of being in a long-term _relationship_ ,” Danny said. He patted Steve on the shoulder, knew all the while how condescending he was. Two could play at the major asshole game. He took no small amount of delight in the way Steve’s left eye twitched almost imperceptibly. “This time I’ll pick you up. Tonight, barring any unforeseen murders, drug traffickers or convoluted bank heists between now and then. Seven sharp.”

For a second, Steve looked like he might be planning to stir up illegal kinds of trouble just to avoid it all, but then he simply nodded and said, “Okay.” 

Steve sounded dazed, maybe a little confused, that he’d agreed. That was good. Danny smiled and squeezed Steve’s shoulder now, tipped his head to the side just a smidge.

“Okay for now, or okay, you’re in this? No more jackassery?”

“I don’t think that’s a wor…”

“Bup, bup, bup,” Danny said. “That is not the point. Don’t try to sidetrack me.”

“No more jackassery,” Steve said, almost contrite. “Not intentionally, anyway. I promise.”

Danny wasn’t convinced of Steve’s sincerity for the future, but took it as acknowledgment of acts of jackassery already committed. At the same time, he felt a thrill of pending success. Oh, yes, McGarrett had definite potential to grow under his tutelage. Ma would be so proud. He wondered if she ever documented her meddles in writing. They were legend as oral retellings at parties and around the Thanksgiving table, when someone was inevitably, begrudgingly thankful for her help. Verbal was good, but a manual might not be a terrible idea. He would have to run it by her next time they spoke. If … after his mission here was a success.

“He promises. Well, don’t think I won’t call you on it if you slip.”

“I would expect nothing less.” Steve stood, as if to reassert his dominance. “You’re good at nagging.”

“I’d thank you, but I know that wasn’t a compliment,” Danny said, then circled around the desk and sat because it didn’t matter in the least that Steve was half a foot taller than him, the long-legged bastard.

Steve chuckled and bobbed his head once. He half-turned to the door, rapped a knuckle against Danny’s desk.

“We good?”

“Sure, we’re good.” Danny clapped his hands together and rubbed them a few times. “Oh, and wear something nice tonight. A step below suit and tie, a few steps above boardies and flip-flops. I’ll show you what it’s like to actually date someone. I swear to you, you will thank me someday.”

“So you keep saying. Frankly, I just want you off my case and I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” Steve muttered, waving a hand at him as he left the office.


	2. Chapter 2

There were pluses and minuses. The pluses were more apparent at first blush. 

Steve was ready on time when Danny picked him up and looked the part, wearing his white pants – a new acquisition since Catherine being permanently stationed here and Danny wasn’t going to complain; he had a pulse – a dark bluish-green V-neck and actual shoes. So, work attire, but he suspected the guy didn’t have date clothes since he didn’t know how to date. The outfit was marred ever so slightly by the bandage just visible from under the left sleeve, a minor wound received during the unforeseen case that had cropped up a couple of days ago and postponed this lesson. Steve hadn’t seen the bandage as a hindrance; he’d immediately attempted to gain sympathy out of Danny, a hard sell since he had witnessed the injury happening and knew that with a little care and regard to procedure, it wouldn’t have happened. Despite the roguish air it lent Steve, the gauze was a minus. 

The minus column was getting quite a workout and the longer the evening progressed, actually, the larger it became. 

Danny had specifically chosen a casual restaurant a bit off the beaten path, to avoid anyone they knew running into them. He wasn’t worried about being seen dining with another man on what was by all outward appearances a date, but figured for this exercise discretion was key to Steve. See, he was courteous like that. He considered the other party’s feelings when making decisions that affected them both. He wished that Steve would pick up on his subtle cues such as that, but judging from the way Steve hadn’t batted a stupid, long eyelash at the frowns Danny shot at him with every bite of food, his wish would not be granted on this night. 

He was going to have to be a bit more blunt. That was okay. Bluntness was totally in his comfort zone.

“So tell me, is Catherine religious?” Danny asked, all casual-like.

“Huh?” Steve said, then shoveled an enormous forkful of food into his mouth. 

“Maybe by any chance, Catholic?”

“How would I know that?” Mouth full. Food visible. “And why are you asking?”

Danny sighed a sigh so long-suffering his mother would be proud, narrowed his eyes and set his own fork down. Maybe he’d try to finish in a bit, but for now, duty called. 

“I say this with the most sincere affection I can manage amid my burgeoning nausea, but if you eat your food like you’re a caveman protecting your wares from other, bigger cavemen around her, then one Lieutenant Catherine Rollins should be nominated for sainthood,” Danny said. “It was one thing when it was in your own home and in front of no one more important than myself, but let me assure you, women do not appreciate a man who treats his fork like a backhoe.”

Halfway through his spiel, he saw Steve’s eyes glaze over and the focus go slightly wonky, tipped vaguely in the direction of his chin. He snapped his fingers and smiled at the way Steve jerked to attention, eyes regaining clarity and darting up, then back down, and up again.

“Hey, are you paying attention to me?”

“You make it difficult not to.” Steve scowled, but set down his fork. “So tell me. What does the way I eat have to do with maintaining a long-term relationship?”

“That you even have to ask that is over half the problem.”

“Cath doesn’t mind the way I eat.”

Danny found that very hard to believe.

“I find that very hard to believe. I think it’s far more likely she’s too polite to say anything,” Danny said. “Or maybe resigned to the fate of watching your human garbage disposal routine for the rest of her life.”

“You say that like I’m repulsive,” Steve said, sounding and looking genuinely hurt.

Danny put a hand on Steve’s forearm and squeezed, because the guy looked like he needed some comfort. He found it amazing and unrealistic that he was the first one to ever call Steve on this particular character flaw, or any of Steve’s flaws, for that matter, but Steve was sure acting like it. He entertained the idea that this was all a ploy. It wouldn’t be the first time Steve played him about this whole dating thing. The seed had barely planted in his brain when he uprooted it. No, he had a niggling feeling that maybe he had underestimated Steve’s ability to take personal criticism. The guy was a badass SEAL, but he had to wonder if dating wasn’t the only part of his life that had been shortchanged by his unfortunate history.

“You’re not repulsive. In fact, you’re an utter joy most of the time, as a result of your many positive qualities. I sincerely mean that, but don’t let it go to your head. The problem is that your table manners are not among those qualities. You eat either like every meal might be your last or it’s your first meal after a five day fast, and it isn’t pretty to watch.” 

The second he said it, he knew that was exactly why Steve guarded his food like it could be taken at any moment and ate it rapidly, without decorum. Damn. He glanced at Steve, softening his tone ever so slightly at what he saw. 

“Oh, man,” Danny said. “That’s what it is, isn’t it? We’ve got to get you in the Reserves mindset. You’ve got time now. You’ve been on relatively dry land for over three years. It’s safe to relax.”

Steve stared at him with an expression Danny couldn’t quite read. Usually, if Steve wasn’t an open book, then the corner of the page was turned down so he could find the right spot with a few careful questions. With this, he had no starting point.

“Is there something wrong with your entrée, sir?” their waitress, Janine, asked.

Danny glanced at her, surprised he hadn’t seen her coming. Her focus was on him and his almost full plate, which made sense, as Steve had already demolished three quarters of his meal. He smiled and shook his head.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. It’s great, thanks.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything at all,” she said as she topped off Steve’s, then his water glass. She placed a hand on his shoulder while she leaned for his glass. “I’m here to help.”

“Thanks again,” Danny said.

By the time Janine left with a bright smile in his direction, the expression he hadn’t recognized from Steve’s repertoire was gone. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, but chose to let it go for now. It hadn’t appeared to be a bad face, given what he knew of Steve’s many faces. Like the amused one he now wore.

“I have something in my teeth?”

“Nope,” Steve said. “I was just thinking about the irony of you, master of relationships, not picking up on the very obvious cards our little waitress has been dealing you all night.”

Oh. Danny replayed Janine’s interactions with him, and yeah, he supposed that was true. Huh. He wasn’t about to admit that it had totally flown over his head until half a second ago. Smug was not a good look on anyone, especially anyone with the last name McGarrett.

“On the contrary, I noticed. I have been ignoring it, because I am on a date,” Danny said, using air quotes for the word date. “What kind of person hits on someone who’s on a date, anyway? Don’t be jealous, she’s not my type.”

“Not jealous.” Steve just grinned. “It’s cute. Maybe after you’re done teaching me all you know, oh wise one, I can teach you a few tricks myself. I’m in procurement, you’re in retention.”

“I’m glad you’re entertained, and no, that is not happening because it’s not necessary even if I weren’t dating someone right now. I’m also not allowing you to distract me. So, where was I?”

“You were in the middle of telling me I’m a slob,” Steve said mildly, then took a long sip of his wine and slouched back into his chair.

Steve pouted. Honest to goodness, pouted.

“No, I was not either.” Danny sighed. He caught Steve’s eye, so he’d understand this was him being serious and was rewarded with Steve losing most of the pout. “Steve, you’re not on one of your secret Navy missions anymore. I think it’s about time you try to enjoy a meal because it tastes good, not because you need fuel for survival. Starting with the rest of this one. Okay?”

Steve stared at him long enough for him to start becoming uncomfortable, before regaining his posture and his fork. This time when he began eating, he didn’t hunch over his plate protectively and the fork was a fork, not a shovel.

“He can learn,” Danny said. He resisted the urge to give Steve a scritch behind the ears, but couldn’t withhold the, “That’s a good boy.”

It seemed only logical when Steve growled at him in response, so he didn’t mention how that wasn’t date-appropriate behavior. Danny merely chuckled, shrugged and his stomach reminded him that, yes, he was still hungry. His ahi really was good, if on the cool side now, but he dug in without beckoning Janine over for a quick re-heat. Not advisable with fish, but mostly because of what Steve had pointed out. He didn’t want to accidentally encourage her.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, and it was comfortable. He took the time to once again appreciate the easy give and take of his and Steve’s friendship, the way they could harp on each other in one breath and in the next sit and eat food without one of them being disgusting in public. He had a list as long as his arm of people who never bothered with getting to know him beyond his admittedly craggy exterior. Sometimes it seemed Steve had known him before he’d even known him. He didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about that, but when he did, there was always a rush of grateful warmth inside.

“How’s the arm?” Danny asked when the silence had become too prolonged and it seemed Steve wasn’t going to initiate conversation. Steve might have reeled back the hungry man thing, but he was still very focused on eating, something he’d noted earlier. Starting small talk wasn’t the guy’s forte. “Sore?”

“It’s just a scratch, Danny,” Steve said. “You were there.”

“Yes, I was.” Danny frowned. “While I am concerned for your welfare, I was mostly trying to start a conversation. Out of curiosity, what do you and Cath talk about?”

“We…” Steve waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “…don’t do much talking when we’re together.”

Danny scowled and held up his hand, fork and all, in the universal sign for stop-right-there. The very last thing he wanted was to picture Steve and Catherine in the sack, for many, many reasons. 

“Don’t. Just don’t.” He gave his brain a scrub and chewed on his lip. “My curiosity does not extend to that.”

Steve tossed his head back and laughed, and fuck it all anyway, Danny then _did_ imagine what Steve looked like when he was coming. He shook his head to dislodge the image.

“Okay, conversation will be something we can work on next,” Danny said, voice hoarse.

Steve sobered and said, “Next? We’re not done after this?”

“No. You are a project that can only be done in phases. Tell you what, next time you do your thing with Catherine, just remember to eat like a human being and let me know if that has any effect. We’ll go from there, but don’t worry, I’m thinking you might do better in a classroom setting than learning by observation. We’ll keep it behind closed doors from now on.”

“Sounds good. I don’t mind going out, but thank you. I actually have been having a decent time tonight, Danny.” Steve raised a glass. “I’ll admit I doubted all of this, but you might know what you’re talking about.”

“Hence me being Henry Higgins to your Eliza Doolittle.”

“Your what to my what, now?” Steve said, eyebrows quirking in confusion. 

“From _My Fair Lady_ or, if you prefer, its progenitor, _Pygmalion_ ,” Danny said.

 _Progenitor_ , Steve mouthed, his eyebrows knitting even closer together, then, “ _My Fair Lady_? Like, the movie with singing that mostly only women actually enjoy watching?”

“You’ll note I never said I liked it. I just know enough to reference it, and do you want to know why I know enough to reference it?” Danny asked. He smiled. “Senior year English class. And, also, Rachel loves the shit out of that movie. As in, the woman I dated and eventually married, and before you mention the very obvious fact that she and I are divorced, the point is that I was clearly, clearly outclassed – I can admit it – in that relationship, and yet, marriage.”

“Point,” Steve said, but his eyes sparkled with undisguised mischief. “I still have much to learn.”

“You bet your ass you do,” Danny said without bite.

“I just don’t like the thought of changing who I am for someone else.”

“Don’t think of it like that. You’ll still be you. There is no one gonna change that, certainly not yours truly. I’d have done it already if I could.” Danny pointed his fork in Steve’s general direction. “Think of it more as sanding off some rough edges. You can still eat however you want when nobody’s looking, just control yourself in public and in front of your girlfriend.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Steve said.

Danny chuckled and they settled back into their food. They finished dinner, trading pleasant barbs throughout the dessert course, which he had to explain was always a nice touch even if a woman claimed she was too full, and, no, Steve shouldn’t eat it all in one bite just because he could.

It didn’t occur to him until later that for a non-date, it was one of the nicest he’d been on in a long time.

H50H50H50

“Why do you always do this? You really think _now_ is a good time to have this discussion, Danny?” Steve said, then poked his head barely above the dumpster serving as his cover.

Steve took a few shots in the general vicinity of their guy, Manny Alapai, the genius who thought running and shooting at cops was going to have a better outcome than being booked for his spiffy auto theft ring. Chin and Kono were at the chop shop, securing the scene and piecing together the evidence.

“Some would call it nagging.”

“It’s not nagging. Your blatant disregard of me saying ‘hey, I think we should wait for the back-up I just called’ made me realize you probably don’t listen to a thing Catherine says when you’re together in a non-work situation,” Danny snapped, at the same time wrestling the arms of perp number two, one of Alapai’s trigger happy minions, behind his back. “And I have to do it now, in case I get shot or otherwise incapacitated due to you _not listening to me_ , I wanted to make sure you know it’s something for you to work on.”

“Okay, noted, though I’ll have you know I do listen to you; I just don’t pay attention.”

“You think that’s _better_? You’re a real prince.”

“Sarcasm is the refuge of a shallow mind.”

“Wow,” Danny said. “You went there. That’s much more hurtful than anything I’ve ever said to you.”

“Danny.” Steve ducked as a bullet ricocheted way too close to his stupid head. “I’m truly sorry. You’re deep. Your mind is an enormous, endless well of information. If your ego is appeased now, please let’s focus on what’s really important here.”

“My ego? That’s a good one. Plus I’ll have _you_ know that I can multitask like a champ.” He turned his attention to the guy in his grasp, shoved him onto his belly, ignored the squirming beneath his right knee. “You’re not going anywhere, stop trying.”

“Fuck you and your little _ipo_ ,” the guy said, a creative response if ever there was one.

“Yeah, real original,” Danny said. 

Danny ground his knee into the middle of the guy’s back, caught sight of an exterior pipe conveniently close and cuffed him. He was less fortunate in his cover options, trapped on the other side of the alley behind a makeshift (and not bullet retardant) cardboard encampment whose occupant wisely got the hell out of there at the first sign of badges and guns. Still, he’d managed to take his guy out with minimal damage to anyone, not counting the south wall of the homeless guy’s house being obliterated. He hated these public shootouts. It didn’t matter if all civilians nearby had seemed to clear out of the area, there was always a chance of collateral damage. They’d been super fucking lucky to have not shot someone innocent in the crossfire so far. 

“Manny Alapai, cease fire and put down your weapon,” Steve shouted. “I assure you I am a much better shot than you and it’s in your best interest to surrender.”

“Fuck you,” was Alapai’s equally creative comeback. Two peas in a criminal pod, this pair. “I’m an honest businessman and this is harassment.” 

This, of course, was said with another round of wild shots aimed somewhat in his and Steve’s direction. Honest businessman, that was a new argument for a car thief and probable possessor of unregistered concealed weapons. Danny waited for the last ping of bullet against the brick wall above his head, then peered over the cardboard hut. He caught sight of Alapai scampering toward the end of the alley. Once out on the street, it was going to be tougher to get the asshole. Too many people.

“He’s making a break for it. Go, I got you,” Danny said, knowing that Steve would be able to advance on Alapai without blocking Danny’s sightline on the guy. 

Danny didn’t see fit to expend any additional energy on Alapai. Besides, he already had his perp and Steve always got some kind of adrenaline rush out of foot chases. It probably had more to do with the flying tackles, he thought, and winced as Alapai went down under Steve’s substantial mass. That had to sting a little. He tried not to grin, knowing that would only encourage Steve more. He lowered his weapon and strolled down the alley to the tangle of arms and legs, Alapai on his stomach and Steve half lying on top of him. The idiot was still putting up some semblance of a struggle. Sometimes he thought criminals had a checklist of moves they just had to complete prior to being Mirandized. Deny, shout, shoot, run, shoot some more, lose, continue to fight anyway. All in a day’s work.

“See, you didn’t get a scratch on you,” Steve said and grinned up at him. “You’re still in one well-structured, undamaged piece.”

“That doesn’t negate my point at all,” Danny said while Steve wrestled Alapai’s hands behind his back and wrists into cuffs. He heard the well-structured comment and chose to pay no mind to it, proving Steve wasn’t the only one who could hear and disregard when it suited him. “You did, though. Your arm’s all tore up. Again, and it’s because all of this could have been avoided if you’d listened. Communication is a two-way street, Steven.”

“Eh, a little pain is worth it. We caught the bad guys.”

Danny wobbled his left hand in classic _comme çi, comme ça_ fashion as they returned to collect the cohort. He began reading Alapai and the other guy, name less important than the ridiculous Desert Eagle he probably thought was badass that he’d been brandishing at Danny, their rights. A little hit of something that was totally not pride burst through him when he saw Alapai’s chin was as jacked up as Steve’s forearm. A road-rash soul patch on a slimeball was a great look, and no one administered them quite like Steve. He gestured to it and rolled his eyes at his partner, who grinned like the madman he was. 

“My chin,” Alapai said in a pitiful voice. “I’m bleeding.”

There were times when it was difficult to not laugh in the face of the recently captured. He made as dignified an effort as possible, and by the time he was finished reciting they had walked with their stumbling, bucking charges to the far end of the alley where a couple of black and whites were pulling up to lend a hand. Danny would gripe about response time, except, really, the whole stupid affair had only taken a few minutes. He was horrified to realize somewhere deep inside he was disappointed by that. He glared at Steve, whose fault this feeling undoubtedly was, as the other man thumped the hood of one of the patrol cars a second before it drove away.

“Hard to believe that guy is the mastermind of anything,” Steve said. 

“Nice work on the tackle,” Danny said, swirling a finger at his own chin.

“It’s all physics.” Steve shrugged, but then his chest puffed up noticeably. 

“You’re a piece of work.” Danny sounded a bit too fond, so he scowled at the blood dripping from a particularly deep groove near Steve’s elbow. “Come on, let’s clear the scene and then go get you debrided or whatever. And don’t think we’re done talking about the way you define communication.”

“Yes, dear,” Steve said. “Whatever you say.”

H50H50H50

He chewed on his lower lip absently, listening to the conversation but at the same time turning something unrelated to the case over in his head. It wasn’t that they couldn’t use the information. The information was always helpful and often pivotal to their cases. Catherine’s resourcefulness and access to technology knew no bounds, it seemed, which was part of why she and Steve were a perfectly matched set. Both had won genetic lotteries in the looks, brains and training departments. The veritable trifecta was a tad nauseating, really.

“Thanks again, Cath,” Steve said.

“I like to earn my keep, you know that,” Cath said, wryness clear as a bell even over the phone. “I’ll let you know what I find out. See you later?”

“If we solve this. Might not be for a few days.”

“I have no idea what I’ll do to occupy my time.”

Sometimes it was awkward sitting in the car while Steve and Catherine flirted. Though if he were going to analyze it, he’d say he hadn’t noticed the back and forth between them so much before. Now it was as if his every spare synapse was devoted to studying the methods of Steve’s dating madness, and what he now heard when Steve talked to Catherine was … surface at best, like he knew he had to go through the motions but wasn’t sure what it all meant. Or, like he’d first thought, that Steve didn’t know how to talk to her outside of fishing for her help. It didn’t flow naturally, like… He frowned, eyes unfocused on the scenery whizzing by.

“What?” Steve asked.

Danny shook his head, straightened and turned to Steve. “What, what?”

“You’re not the only one who can read people.” Steve gave him a knowing smile. “You’ve got something on your mind. Spill it.”

“Okay, but remember that you asked,” Danny said. “I was just wondering about this, but you’re in a better position to tell me. Do you ever call Catherine just to talk, not to pump her for information?”

“This again,” Steve said with a groan.

“You asked. So, do you? I’m guessing the answer is no, since last week you couldn’t even prove to me you have conversations with her face to face.”

“Danny, why would I call her just to chat? We live on a small island. It’s easier just to meet up.”

“I don’t know, because you’re as interested in her daily life as you are in what she has access to on the job?” Danny said. “Forget the calling thing. You could do this in person as well. The calling was just prompted by your awkward flirt-for-information technique which, by the way, is wearing thin for Catherine.”

“So you’re psychic now. That’ll come in handy. In fact, why haven’t you broken this case wide open already?”

“Not psychic, wiseass. Sometimes I think you doubt my skills as a detective.”

“What?” Steve exclaimed. “Danny, no, I don’t do that. I was just kidding.”

“I know that. I detected it.” Danny spread his hands wide to make it clearer. “Just as I detected subtle nuances in Cath’s tone that are apparently outside your range, which is exactly why I started down this ill-conceived path in the first place. I know you’ve known Cath for a long time, that you’re good friends. But this is the first time that you’ve both been in the same place for any significant length of time. You can’t tell me you know everything about her. Hell, do you even know her favorite color?”

For a few seconds, Steve gave him nothing but stony silence and a wildly ticking jaw muscle. It was always one step forward, three back with the guy on a good day. On this subject, it was more like five steps back. 

“Blue,” Steve said. “She likes blue.”

“That’s a happy coincidence, because I happen to know _you_ also like blue.” 

“Her car is blue. It’s reasonable conclusion to draw.”

“My car is silver. So what? That’s not my favorite color.” Danny patted Steve’s shoulder. “It’s okay to admit you don’t know.” 

“All right, I don’t know. You happy to hear that?”

“Not particularly.” Danny cleared his throat. “Look, I get it. Most of that kind of shit like favorite colors isn’t important to us. We’re guys. But I can tell you that Gabby’s favorite color is lavender, which is also one of her favorite scents, just behind plumeria. She likes dark roast coffee with a splash of cream. She paints her toes with a polish called Melon of Troy, which, yes, is a completely stupid name. I know these things not because I care about them, but because I care about _her_ enough to know the little things about her. You see my point?”

Steve shot him a sidelong look, a smile threatening to break across his lips. Great. Commander Laughs-A-Lot was on duty.

“Yeah, if your point is that you’re whipped,” Steve said after a beat. “Toenail polish, Danny?”

“Not whipped. I said I know the color because the name is so ridiculous, not that I get down on my knees and give her pedicures.” 

Danny shrugged, determined to keep his tone mellow for a change. Besides, it wasn’t like this was important in a grand scheme kind of way. Not for him. He only wanted vindication, he reminded himself. It was Cath who would be the ultimate victor. 

“Maybe you don’t get the difference yet. Maybe that’s why we’re still having these kinds of conversations.”

“What I don’t get is why you keep implying I don’t care about Cath.” Steve was in full sulk mode now, whiplashing from amused to hurt. “I care, Danny.”

“Then you will have no problem putting your money where your mouth is,” Danny said. “And I haven’t meant to imply you don’t care, just that you don’t express it all that well, or at all. I mean, when was your last long-term relationship, outside of an adolescent affair when holding hands and making out to bad movies was the extent of things? You just need to let go of your military compartmentalization and let her in, where it counts the most.”

“Jesus, you really are a pain in my ass,” Steve said, grumpy without any real force behind his words. “Next thing, you’ll have a pie chart for me.”

Actually, Danny had embraced his inner and very hidden geek to devise many a mental pie chart and graph for this project. He was nothing if not thorough. The problem came with executing them in real time, which would have required the technological prowess of Chin or Kono or, God help him, Grace, and that was not a can of worms that he was ever going to open. It was too bad, because the mental versions were things of beauty. 

“How about bullet points?” Danny ticked them off on his fingers as he spoke, “Do these four things consistently: eat like a human being, communicate with your words and by listening to what she says and not just what you say, pay attention to what she likes, and, most of all, care about doing all three of the above because you genuinely want to, not because they’re on a list of orders to follow. If you don’t have the last one down pat, then there’s nothing I can teach you that’s going to do a bit of good.”

“I’m not sure I’m ever going to care about her toenails or whatever,” Steve said, stubborn to the last. 

“You don’t have to. Cath strikes me as the kind of woman who doesn’t care about that stuff anyway, but that was only an example. I just want you to find out what it is she does like, her quirks and those little idiosyncrasies I’m absolutely certain she already knows about you.”

“I hate to break it to you, Danno, but I’m not that easy to read.”

“It’s cute how you think that’s true, but no. For example, you wear the same color shirt on Tuesdays – cadet blue, and usually with those stupid white pants of yours. You actually do prefer tea to coffee, but you can live without either. You think you secretly eat at least one malasada a week, yet I know that you do.”

Steve muttered an indignant, “Hey, no I don’t.”

“Relax. Looking at you, it’s pretty obvious your workouts allow for an extraneous doughnut now and then.”

Steve blinked at that, paused a beat. “Thank you?”

“Anyway. Back to my wishes and dreams, it would be nice of you to stop fighting what I’m telling you just for the sake of not being wrong about these particular flaws of yours,” Danny said and blissfully ignored that he was doing pretty much the same thing. Except he _was_ right, damn it. “It’s getting old.”

“I have to point out it’s pretty rich that you think I don’t know Cath because I’m not sure what her favorite color is.” Steve pressed his foot harder onto the accelerator. “And since we’re making lists and shit, I also think it’s rich that this is obviously way too important to you. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re the one who just doesn’t want to be wrong.”

Danny pulled a pensive look, with the corners-of-his-mouth forming an upside-down U, as if he were considering that rather than owning up to it. It was more than possible that Steve knew him just as well as he knew Steve, and didn’t that give him a warm, fond feeling in his gut? He pushed that feeling and the thoughts that came with it aside. 

“Heed my words, take my advice and you’ll see. Being on an equal footing with someone in a relationship is really the only way to go and this is a golden opportunity to know more about Cath than what she does for a living and how she likes sex.”

“Hmph,” Steve said. “Fine.”

Danny thought at the very least he’d regained the five steps back Steve had taken.

“I knew you’d see reason. Again, might I add. Let’s keep with the forward momentum, hey?” Danny smiled. “Speaking of forward momentum, maybe we should focus on the case.”

Steve spluttered something about how Danny’d been the one to go off topic and it would have been a whole big thing if his phone hadn’t rung with Chin on the other end with a major break.

H50H50H50

Danny scowled at the volume of paperwork that needed to be done, as if it had suddenly, magically appeared on his desk. The build-up had been slow. After nonstop case after case with no reprieve, Steve had started reverting to some of the practices he’d used after he’d first taken on the taskforce. The whole full immunity and means thing Jameson had allowed for her own purposes, and Denning did not because, well, he was sometimes a dick about it, but was usually reasonable in his expectations. Danny had teased Steve not that long ago about improving the way he creatively presented their unorthodox means, but the fact of the matter was that most of the stuff McGarrett pulled these days only tiptoed at the edge of being completely against proper police procedure.

Or maybe, and he didn’t want this to be true, he himself had become more relaxed in his own diligence to the finer points of the law. Danny frowned as he remembered the rule-bending (breaking) stunt that had made him wise up, too little and far too late, and the memory was random, out of place, but no less vital in making him who he was. And remembering it, he knew he was going to have to start yelling at Steve about procedure some more to make up for slipping these past few months, year. It wasn’t lost on him that he had to actively dog the guy to try to prompt some amount of his influence, while Steve simply _existed_ and changed the people around him. He’d live on the hope that was just his skewed perspective.

“Steve,” Chin said loudly. “Howzit?”

Speaking of his influence, Danny knew the second he looked up and saw Steve finally arrive in the office that something had changed. Steve had a John Travolta _Saturday Night Fever_ strut going on that was impossible to miss. Maybe it wasn’t quite so exaggerated and there definitely wasn’t any polyester in sight, but the cocky vibe was rolling off the guy in waves. Only the most clueless of the world, like Max, wouldn’t pick up on that instantly, or that it meant Steve had gotten some extra special _got some_ , since his regular _got some_ swagger had all but vanished now that he hooked up regularly. Sure enough, Chin and Kono both broke into knowing smiles and there might have been a fist bump exchanged amid the soft rumble of conversation he didn’t really want to hear anyway.

And Steve thought he was tough to read. Hah.

As for Danny, he realized with sudden clarity the unconsidered side effect to his hard work and immediately kicked himself for not thinking of it before. A spike of irritation born from that part of his brain that had no business being annoyed stuck him in place as Steve strolled into his office. There was no avoiding the cocksure square of Steve’s shoulders, the conversely dopey look on his face.

“Hey, Danny,” Steve said casually, as he plopped himself on the edge of the desk. He smiled, wide and bright. “I thought I’d use my newly refined communication skills to do what’s only right and thank you. Didn’t want to wait, as that would be rude.”

“Oh, jeez,” Danny muttered. He tossed his pen down, watched it roll across the desk and smack into the phone. “Really?”

“Really. Truly. It turns out you were right after all. I know you know that I was skeptical, but over the past few days, I’ve come to appreciate the time and energy you took with me. A lot.” 

Steve’s grin was out of control now. He might as well be glowing and Danny absolutely did not want to know what kind of magical thing he and Catherine had got up to, to provoke such a transparent display of testosterone. This wasn’t a locker room, and even if it were, he’d never really been the sort to engage in sordid, often made-up competitions of conquest. It was probably that he was jealous. Gabby had been gone a _long_ time, and there was only so much solitary gratification a guy could take. He shifted on his chair, leaning away from the gravitational pull of a satisfied Steve. Just, no. All sorts of things were getting misplaced, he thought. 

“So, thank you,” Steve said. “You could stay that I have become an expert pitcher of woo and Cath is catching it happily.”

Danny smiled, but it was an outward façade only. Beyond the whole satisfied air was that smugness he hated so much. Jesus, he’d created a monster. That much was abundantly clear. It was his own fault, so he couldn’t be irritated by it. He told that to himself several times, smiling all the while, like he and Steve were sharing an inside joke. 

“You do know my primary goal wasn’t for you to manipulate sexual favors out of Cath, right?” Danny said at last, slow and measured.

“I have no idea what you mean.” Steve stood, headed for the door and turned back only to grin and say, “I only use my powers for good.”

Insufferable bastard. Danny had been right all along, and somehow Steve still won. He had to wonder if that ever happened to his mother when she stuck her nose in it, and then regretted including his mother in the mix of thoughts jumbling about in his head. Of Steve and Catherine. And Steve _with_ Catherine and holy hell, he needed that picture out of his head, why did it keep popping up, and just Steve being Steve, which wasn’t really all that much easier to take.

On the very small plus side, his ire made him work faster to clear the Steve-generated pile of forms off of his desk.

H50H50H50

“Daniel Williams?” the kid said, eyeballing the clipboard he carried in one hand. In the other hand, he held a giant bouquet of large, pinkish blooms. He gazed around the operations room into each office. “Hello, is there a Daniel Williams here? Am I in the right place?”

Danny raised his eyebrows and wandered out to meet the delivery kid. He spared a frown at Steve, also leaving his office at the same time. If this were an over-the-top gesture to go with the over-the-top “newly reformed and communicative” Steve he’d suffered through these past few days, then there would be words. There was getting a taste of one’s own medicine, and then there was Steve’s somewhat patronizing insincerity. Danny saw right through him. It made an itch form, just under his skin, and his new goal was to grit his teeth until it passed and things got back to normal. 

“I’m Danny Williams,” he said.

“It’s your lucky day, _brah_.” The kid, all gangly legs and arms, smiled at him and proffered the bouquet. “Somebody loves you.”

By the time Danny scrawled his signature and hefted the vase against his right hip, Steve, Kono and Chin had all joined him next to the tech table. Chin and Kono looked moderately interested, and Steve had an odd expression on his face, one he recalled seeing only once before and he still didn’t know what it meant. 

“Lotuses,” Kono said. “Very beautiful and mysterious. Unusual, too. Someone put a lot of thought into this.”

“Gabby back in town?” Chin asked. “I hadn’t heard that.”

Steve made no comment at all, and his expression didn’t alter from the uncharted territory. 

“No.” Danny plucked the envelope from its little plastic holder and slid a finger under the flap. “In fact, her trip’s been extended. I have no idea who…” 

Danny pulled the card out and read silently. _I don’t know what or how, but thank you. So much. XO, Catherine_

“Hmm,” Danny said with a small smile, and tucked the card into his pants pocket. “Pretty. I’ll have to show them to Grace.”

“You’re not going to tell us who they’re from?” Kono’s interest had amped from moderate to high. “Come on, Danny.”

“What fun is life without a few unanswered questions?”

“That is a lousy attitude for a detective to have, you know.”

He waved an arm absently at his curious coworkers, set the arrangement on the very edge of the desk and resumed his seat. The heavyweight paper from the envelope poked against his hip through his pocket lining. Danny shifted to get more comfortable, knew it would be too hard for certain officers of the law to resist peeking at it the first chance she got if he didn’t keep the note on his person. It was no big secret, but it might get awkward for her to know that McGarrett’s girlfriend was sending him flowers. 

He tried to focus on the files in front of him, but the lotus blossoms distracted even him. He had an irrational urge to tip them right onto the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, peering through the windshield at the stoplight, like he could make it switch from red to green with the power of his mind.

“I just wish I knew what she was up to, you know?” he said.

Danny sighed. He was tired. His sleep had been fitful at best, filled with dreams he couldn’t quite pinpoint but knew had been disruptive by how shitty he felt when his alarm went off in the morning. Add tooling around with his annoying partner next to him, driving _his_ car, something that wasn’t a big deal until it was, and his crankiness had internally escalated for hours. His interest in Steve’s mother was at an all-time low, and it had never been particularly high except for how tied up in knots Steve got over it. And even his own concern pissed him off today.

“Have you ever noticed that a majority of our conversations, the ones not case related, are about you and your issues?” Danny asked. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know why he’d said that, especially since he’d gone out of his way to butt into one of Steve’s issues. He had some major fucking hard-on for opening cans of worms lately. “Never mind.”

The light turned. Steve stomped on the gas, darting more than one look Danny’s way. It made Danny want to shout at him to pay attention to the damned road. He clenched his jaw.

“You really think that?” Steve said quietly. “I don’t think that’s true, Danny. I listen to you talk all the time.”

“Oh, you mean the way you listen but don’t pay attention?” Danny’s mouth wasn’t listening to his brain, which was telling him to pipe down. “Like that?”

The sound of Steve’s teeth clattering together as he slammed his mouth shut was audible even over the radio and road noise. 

“Come on. You’re being too sensitive.”

“Am I?” Danny snapped. The distraction of playing dating counselor hadn’t halted the advancement of his own life and the problems that went with it. “When was the last time you even _thought_ about how I am fighting tooth and nail to keep my little girl on this island, with me? About how I’m fighting to keep myself here?” 

He heard Steve make a strange, gurgled noise at the back of his throat and couldn’t find it in him to regret mentioning it. Danny closed his eyes briefly.

“Look, I’m in a mood. Forget I said anything.”

“I’m not going to do that.” Steve reached over and bumped the back of his hand against Danny’s leg. “I’m sorry if I’ve been … I’m sorry, okay? You really worried about not getting a favorable outcome with Grace?”

“It’s okay, it’s fine,” Danny said. He had to give Steve points for trying. “But today is not the day to talk about that.”

“Okay,” Steve murmured. “But I’m here when you need, no matter how it might seem to you at times.” 

Something that had been tightly wound in Danny’s gut all day loosened slightly.

H50H50H50

Danny heaved out of the dream the same way he always did, sitting up in a cold sweat with a heart pounding way too fast. It was always the same, fragmented into moments, bits and pieces only. He supposed that, at least, was something for which to be grateful.

_“I said forget about it, all right?”_

He had no desire to relive the entire thing, even in dream form. It was bad enough waking to the ghost feeling of a trail of sweat down his back, the strong grip of Steve’s arms around him, the almost angry look on Steve’s face at the suggestion he leave Danny there to save himself. If he went through every moment of it all over again each night, he’d go insane in short order. He slung his legs off the bed and shakily made his way to the bathroom to splash water on his face, a palm full to drink. After the second bout of this cottonmouth-inducing memory nightmare, he’d placed a glass of water on the bedside table, only to flail and knock it to the floor. Cleaning up the mess had actually helped him calm down in some regards, but by the time he’d finished he’d been too wired to go back to sleep. 

He took small comfort in knowing the cause for his agitated rest rather than the nebulous nature of the dreams he’d had for a few weeks prior. At first he didn’t know why his brain wouldn’t let this go. He’d gone through worse things in his life, things that _had_ resulted in injury and death. Hell, the story he’d told while pinned in place by that damned dirty bomb had been far worse. No, the real issue was why his grey matter chose the moments it did to focus on in his susceptible dream state. 

It didn’t take him that long to figure it out. He wasn’t a fool. 

He let the cold water run for a minute, oddly settled by the white noise, then cupped his hands together, leaned down and doused his face. The water helped. He scrubbed his wet hands down his face, then back up and through his hair. He looked at his reflection and didn’t want to think about what he saw, what had been peeking through his subconscious for way longer than he was prepared to admit even as he stared right at it. He squeezed his eyes shut, and instantly remembered how relieved and safe he felt being hugged by Steve. 

He’d done something incredibly stupid. Danny had gone and developed a full-blown, no holds barred, deeper than a surface level attraction only _thing_ for the guy he’d spent so much time grooming to accept and embrace his already existing long-term relationship, with someone practically perfect in every possible way.

What a masochist.

H50H50H50

He raised his hand as their server passed the table, beckoned for another bottle. His intent wasn’t to get completely hammered, though a pleasant buzz would not be amiss right now. At the start of the evening, he’d contemplating taking a drink every time Catherine touched Steve, or Steve touched Catherine, both of them easy and relaxed with each other in a way he was sure they hadn’t been before. He’d be three sheets to the wind by now if he’d stuck to that idea tonight, and probably an alcoholic if he applied the idea to every situation in which he found himself with the happy couple.

As if he didn’t have enough to be miserable about without this self-imposed fixation. 

He’d started the day with a phone call from his attorney, always a bad thing filled with requests for concessions, unacceptable alternatives to what he wanted in the custody arrangements and helpful parenting suggestions he resented, and was now ending it with a veritable smorgasbord of Steve and Cath PDA, like bad news bookends with a bunch of denial in between. On second thought, maybe he should get smashed. Except if he did that, he might spill his guts, so for the moment he was the very living, breathing epitome of being between a rock and a hard place.

“Hello, Earth to Danny,” someone said just as a hand appeared in front of him, fingers snapping.

“What?” Danny said, pulling his head back and swatting at the hand. “Get out of my face.”

The hand was attached to Steve, of course, because that was his luck, and it wrapped around his forearm. He tried to tug free, failed, and glanced around the table. Everyone was looking at him. Danny swore he’d started out listening, but somewhere along the way he lost track of the conversation. For all he knew, they’d been talking about their last case, the fifteen before that or some absurd and unscientifically proven health benefits of pineapple. 

“You were a million miles away just now,” Steve said, squeezing his arm gently. “You all right in there?”

Practically draped over Steve’s shoulder was Catherine, who stared at him with nothing but concern on her unfairly pretty face. Danny hated the resentful feeling that pose and she engendered, yet wasn’t ready to give it up at the same time. Eventually he’d come to terms with it just like he came to terms with every rotten thing in his life. That didn’t mean it was going to be easy in the meantime. Or that he’d like it. 

“I’m fine, just,” Danny said and tried to think of what word would work, “a little tired. My mind was wandering a bit. What did I miss?”

“Nothing, Steve just noticed your thousand-yard stare, _brah_ ,” Chin said, voice warm. 

“Sorry.”

“It was a long day,” Kono said, contemplatively, as if she had already plotted an early escape. 

Steve relaxed back into his chair, but his hand stayed latched loosely onto Danny, as comfortable with the contact as he was with Catherine. Danny had to tamp down the urge to yank his arm free, knowing if he did it would only draw attention to his apparently already noticeably odd behavior. The touching was something he and Steve had always done, little gestures here and there that had never had any particular, deeper meaning. Until they did, at least in Danny’s messed-up head. And it was in his head, he thought grimly, still very aware of Catherine’s close proximity to Steve and even more aware that he’d created his own misery. He did what he had to. Repressed and breathed a quick sigh of relief when Steve finally let go of him. 

Danny was grateful for the interruption when the server brought his new beer. He traded his empty for the fresh bottle and by the time the quick transaction was complete, everyone was back to chatting and laughing about topics he still didn’t give a damn about. He made an effort and kept it together by focusing his outward attention on Chin and Kono as much as possible. 

Mentally, though, his thoughts turned to Grace, the custody battle and the suggestion that he demonstrate his parenthood skills and support in more tangible ways than he had already been doing. Frankly, he found it insulting. He didn’t know how he could be a better father than he was. The urge to get drunk rose again, but that wouldn’t be very fatherly of him. He had to be extremely careful about everything, which was another reason why his recent realization about his more-romantic-than-platonic feelings for Steve was such a clusterfuck. He needed to keep his focus where it was most needed, and that was Grace. If he could keep it together for Grace, the other thing would go away on its own.

“Danny?”

Shit, he’d done it again. At least his space cadet routine wasn’t directly related to either his dick or that small, petty part of himself that wanted to pry Steve and Catherine apart with a crowbar. When he was little he used to build towers with wooden blocks only to kick them down for the sheer joy of the resulting clatter. Apparently that was still his MO.

“Sorry,” Danny said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that again.”

“Maybe you want to share what’s going on with you?” Steve asked, studying Danny’s face with intensity. “Obviously it’s something big.”

“No, it’s noth…” He shook his head. There was no reason to hide at least part of what was going on with him, and he was obviously preoccupied. “Okay, here it is. My lawyer wants me to have demonstrable examples of the good that comes from my time with Grace, is all. He said something about needing to go above and beyond for a bit, until the hearing, to show how invested I am.”

“Above and beyond Father of the Year. Huh,” Steve said casually and with a dopey grin on his face and a light punch to Danny’s shoulder. “That’ll be tough.”

Danny’s heart didn’t trip a little bit at the words and the smile. It tripped several beats. He had no idea how he hadn’t realized this _thing_ before it was too late. Not that it mattered much, as Steve was clearly happy with Catherine and had seen the light with the improvement project after some arm-twisting. Oh boy, had he, Danny thought, and the worst thing about it was that he had liked Steve just fine _before_ he’d become the perfect boyfriend for someone else. 

“I hardly think I’m Father of the Year material, but thank you,” Danny said.

“What exactly does your lawyer suggest you do with Grace that’ll prove your case?” Chin asked. “You’re the most invested father I know.”

“Again, thank you, but I’m pretty sure I’m the _only_ father you know.” Danny took a swig of beer. He ran a hand through his hair. He shook his head and shrugged awkwardly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. And on that note, I kind of got roped into being a chaperone or whatever on an overnight survival skills camping trip for Grace’s troop of Aloha Girls.”

“You, camping?” Kono said, expression full of glee but she had the decency to keep the laughter in. 

“I know,” Danny said. “All I know about surviving in the rainforest is to avoid going into one in the first place.”

“I think it’s sweet. There’s something about a man and his daughter,” Catherine said. “And I know Grace will really love that you’re there.”

See, that was another thing. He couldn’t genuinely resent _Catherine_ for being on the receiving end of Steve’s affection; any guy would be lucky to have her. After the Halloween fiasco with Grace that Cath had miraculously helped him with – he didn’t know how, only that Grace had done an about-face after Cath had picked her up after the sleepover – he knew better than ever what a wonderful person she was. All her amazing qualities simply made it more difficult for him to take, which didn’t make sense; that should make it easier. He should be happy that Steve was happy, or some other noble bullshit. Jesus, where was all of his relationship maturity now? This was humiliating even if he was the only one privy to the irony of accusing Steve of being emotionally stunted.

“Maybe.” Danny shrugged again. He didn’t know what else to do. “I’ve already bought _The Worst Case Scenario Survival Handbook_ , but I’m not convinced she won’t be embarrassed by her city boy old man.”

He cleared his throat and waved his hand in an attempt to put an end to the turn the conversation had taken. Danny wasn’t looking for pity or any solutions to his problem. Problems, plural, which were both of his own design. He furtively looked at Steve’s hand, fingers twined with Catherine’s, winced and took another drink of beer. Then, sucker that he was, he sneaked a sidelong glance at Steve’s face.

“Grace loves you, Danny. You won’t embarrass her,” Steve said, insistent. He leaned forward, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “And I’ve got a great idea to make extra sure that doesn’t happen – I can come with you. I think my SEAL training can translate to very useful information for Grace and her friends.”

Everyone at the table except Danny burst into spontaneous laughter. Danny set his bottle down with some force, foam splashing out of it, and put his hands up to ward off the suggestion like it were a physical entity.

“No,” Danny said.

“Why not? Danny, I can teach them everything they need to know.” 

“I do not want my daughter learning how to blow things up, Steven.”

He didn’t think he could handle sharing a tent with Steve.

“Of course not. That wouldn’t fit the survival theme. It’ll be great. You get your bonding time with Grace and you don’t have to worry about anything,” Steve said. He had started to become way too enthusiastic, while everyone else kept chuckling. He glared at all of them, ending on Catherine, who had her head tipped back as she belly laughed. “What? What is so funny about this idea?”

“Steve, I wouldn’t list dealing with kids among your special skills,” Catherine said after she composed herself somewhat, her face still alight with a huge smile. 

Well, it turned out Lieutenant Rollins wasn’t perfect after all. Steve teaching a gaggle of little kids how to field strip a gun in fifteen seconds or less wasn’t high on his own list of things he wanted, ever, but he trusted the guy with his daughter. He might even admit Steve was good with Grace. With indignation on Steve’s behalf, Danny found himself reversing his position. He didn’t think about it, really, he only reacted to Steve’s bewildered expression. 

“You promise me you’re not going to go all camo facepaint Navy SEAL on these little girls?” Danny asked. He pointed a stern finger in Steve’s face, and was rewarded with the confused face disappearing for one of barely contained joy. Jesus, it was beautiful. His stomach fluttered and he was positive he’d regressed at least fifteen mental years. “No grenades or other major artillery will be used for demonstration or any other purpose?”

Steve crossed a finger over his heart, and that was how that happened.

H50H50H50

Fuck his life.

The ache in his arm had settled into a low grade burning sensation, barely even there anymore unless he moved it wrong or thought about it. He knew on some level that he was lucky Ron the bumbling diamond thief hadn’t hit him center mass. Getting clipped on the outside of the bicep was just about the most optimal place for an unskilled gunman to hit, no messy bones, tendons or major blood vessels, but, fuck it all, he’d been trying to do right by Grace and disaster followed him anyway. It was no one’s fault, of course, but the roiling in his gut wasn’t from bad pizza alone. He knew for an almost certain fact that Rachel’s overpriced attorney would have a field day with the survival overnight trip which had become far too much about actual survival than anyone could have anticipated. 

Danny sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, then stared up at the tent canopy, the faint glow of streetlights filtering through it. He tried to clear his head. Here and now, on his and Grace’s little faux camping adventure, was not the time to worry about custody or that other major takeaway from the whole ordeal he was absolutely not going to let his brain or his dick linger on. Unfortunately, it was early and now he was wired. He let out a loud breath. He had no idea which of them was the lesser of two evils to occupy the majority of his headspace.

“Daddy?” Grace murmured. Her sleeping bag rustled as she turned onto her side to face him.

“Hey, what are you doing awake?” Danny said, automatically scooting closer to reach out and run a thumb across her forehead, down her cheek. “You should be sleeping.”

“You were thinking too hard. I couldn’t.” 

“Thinking too hard? Who taught you something so ridiculous? One cannot think too hard. This is an impossible feat.”

“Uncle Steve says you think too hard all the time.” She propped herself up on one elbow, grinned like an imp. “And that it’s noisy.” 

Danny swallowed down the lump in his throat. He was never going to survive if he lost Grace and that little face of hers. Coupled with never getting to have Steve, the blow would be too massive. The reality was even if it didn’t go his way, he wouldn’t lose Grace completely, just have to pick up and move. That had always been an unpleasant prospect. Now, it felt like it was almost as horrible an outcome of losing Grace entirely. How fucked up was that?

“Uncle Steve says. Well, Uncle Steve is a good guy, but he doesn’t know everything. I want you to try to remember that.”

“Okay.” Grace bobbed her head. “I think Uncle Steve is _da kine_ , but he’s not you.” 

“Obviously, no one could be,” Danny said, ignoring that his beloved child had just Pidgined at him.

“Dan-no.” 

“What, you said it, didn’t you?” He reached over and tugged at her ear. “You going to tell me why you’re really still awake?”

The smile faded right off of her face. She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a second.

“I was thinking too hard, too,” Grace said. “Is … is Mommy going to fight over me with you more because that bad man shot you when we were camping?”

Danny struggled to not react to that outwardly. So much for not thinking about that tonight. He thought he’d been very careful around Grace when it came to the battle he and Rachel were having. He thought so, anyway, but his girl was sharp. Undoubtedly some of the rancor had bled through, from him, from Rachel or from both of them. He sat up, and beckoned her close, tucked her under his wounded arm. His heart melted when she snuggled in. Custody battle aside, that reaction of hers wasn’t going to last forever and he planned on enjoying every last second of it, even when it came with heartache.

“I know you know that what’s happening with your mom and me is grown-up stuff, but I’m not going to tell you anything that’s not true. We both want the same thing and that’s what’s best for you, okay?” Danny waited for her to nod. “It’s just that we have different ideas of what that means and we have to talk about it for a long time, because it’s important. I want you to stay here. I want both of us to, but if it’s decided you’re better off moving to be with Stan in Las Vegas, I will follow you anywhere you go. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good. Now, I know your mom just wants you to be safe and happy. Sometimes my job scares her, and that’s probably the way it’s always going to be. What happened on the camping trip wasn’t something anyone could control, though. It was no one’s fault but the guy who shot me, and anyone who has heard the story knows how all of you girls were so brave and that everyone was okay in the end.”

That was about as close as he could come to explaining the situation and his own concerns about it without bending the truth. He really had no doubt in his mind that he’d hear about it one way or another, and he had to count on any judge having the common sense to see reason there. He rubbed his hand up and down Grace’s arm. 

“There’s nothing to fight about with that, you got it?” Danny said. “Your mom and I, we’re just going to keep talking until it all gets worked out.”

“I … sometimes I feel like no matter what, either you or Mom won’t be happy,” Grace said softly. “And it’s all my fault.”

“Oh, Grace, no.” Danny hugged her close, tears in his eyes. “We might not be happy with each other sometimes, but I promise you this – whenever either of us are with you, we are the happiest people in the universe. That will always be true. Always. And if you want me to stop discussing this with your mom, I will. Just say the word.”

“No. No, I want to stay here.” Grace sniffled. “I don’t want Mom to be mad about it, but she never asked me, Danno.”

Again, Danny was at a loss for what to say that wouldn’t result in letting his frustrations with Rachel loose. He kept his arms around Grace and they sat quietly for a few minutes. He hoped that some of what he told her would stick. He hoped that he was doing the right thing by not giving in to custody modifications that were unfair at the best and downright cruel as far as his heart was concerned. He felt sure if he gave in now and followed Grace to Las Vegas, the door would be open for the Edwards family to move again and again, until he bankrupted himself and simply could not follow. 

So yeah, fuck his life. 

“You know what I think?” Danny asked after Grace’s subdued tears subsided. “I think that since we are both obviously awake and in no mood for sleep, we need a midnight snack.”

“But it’s not midnight.” Grace slid her hand to her phone and held it up. “It only says ten-thirty.”

Danny made a show of pulling her phone away, scowling at it closely and then tossing it aside. 

“Ten-thirty, ten-schmirty. Any time we eat when we’re supposed to be sleeping, it’s a midnight snack. You want to finish off the _Heavenly Hana_ , or what?”

There was only half a pint left, and as he and his little girl let the cool sweetness of the chocolate-marshmallow-macadamia nut ice cream temper the bitterness of their conversation, he couldn’t bring himself to give two shits about dropping Grace off at Rachel’s in the morning too tired and on a sugar crash. 

The ice cream vanished from the carton quickly and Danny watched the tension drain from Grace’s shoulders. He smiled as she told him about how her Aloha Girls troop were the talk of her class. It was so much better to have her think about the good that came from the experience rather than the bad that still could happen that he didn’t pay too much attention to her chatter, though it seemed their adventures had already been exaggerated. He was glad to see the sparkle return to her eyes while she waxed poetic about how cool everyone thought Uncle Steve was. They weren’t the only ones. He buried that under the last heaping spoonful.

By the time they were done, he thought his ice cream therapy had worked wonders for both of them. The issue wasn’t going to go away so easily, but for now he felt a bit more at peace with it and the bounce in Grace’s step wasn’t totally due to the treat. They rinsed their spoons, re-brushed their teeth and returned to the tent to bunk down for good this time. 

“I think we should go camping with Uncle Steve again,” Grace said as she scampered into her sleeping bag. 

Danny settled himself, swiped at a bit of foamy paste off of the corner of her mouth and said, “No.”

“But I didn’t get to learn how to throw a knife like he did.”

“And you won’t, if I have anything to say about it. The man’s a menace.” An unattainable menace he had no business pining over. Danny swirled a hand around the small space inside the tent. “This is as much camping as we’re doing. Now, let’s get some sleep, huh?”

It was a good idea, in principle. Grace dozed off quickly despite the boost of sugar into her system, but he remained awake and would all night. He’d managed to exorcise some of the custody demons rattling around in his brain, but the Steve hero worship had rekindled the other major takeaway from that mess – the way Steve’s hand felt on his thigh and the angry, intense concern in Steve’s eyes when he inspected the very minor gunshot wound.

With his daughter lying not three feet from him, no way was Danny letting those memories loose for his subconscious to extrapolate in situationally inappropriate ways.

H50H50H50

Sometimes Danny was confused, sometimes possibly delusional and sometimes maybe a little of both. Okay, it was definitely both. Repressing his problem was not working. At all. He made an off-the-cuff sarcastic joke as Steve strode toward them with purpose and a “see, told you” look just for him, and tried not to swallow his tongue in the process. Both were a lot more difficult than they should have been.

_The text came from out of the blue, as far as he was concerned. Danny stared at his phone long and hard for a few seconds, uncertain exactly what he was supposed to do with the information imparted to him. He wasn’t a relationship guru and regretted more than ever that he’d butted his nose into the casual, nameless thing Steve seemed content to have with Catherine. He chewed on his lip, darted a look in the vague direction of Steve’s office, and glanced back down at the message. He took a deep breath. There was only one thing he could do and he hated it._

_Danny doubted his mother had ever gotten into these kinds of unfortunate situations when she meddled. If she ever had, he did not want to know. It didn’t matter anyway, because now he was in it so deep he couldn’t even call and ask for her expert advice on how to fix what he’d broken. What he should have done, he realized, was called her when the idea had hatched to have her talk him out of it with some expertly chosen horror stories of her own. It probably wouldn’t have worked, but at least there would have been a chance he wouldn’t now be spending all day fending off errant, stupid thoughts and all night with his right hand and those very same errant, stupid thoughts._

_He steeled himself, stood and walked toward Steve’s office like a condemned man headed for the gallows pole. Shit, he was never going to get over this if he kept dramatizing everything._

_“Rainbow Drive-In, Steve, really?” Danny said, putting as much vinegar in his tone as he could muster. It was apparently enough, by the dopey, startled look on Steve’s face he got for his effort. “Cath’s free time will be at a premium in T-minus two days and you spring for a quote unquote fancy breakfast in a parking lot? Where you then get jacked.”_

_He thought Steve managed to look embarrassed, smug and offended all at the same time. It was quite an accomplishment and it made his face all scrunchy and fuck. Fuck. He was only now starting to realize he had it worse than he had even come close to admitting._

_“Are you two colluding now?” Steve said. He leaned back, his chair tipping slightly. He crossed his arms so they looked extra muscular._

_“Only in case of emergency, apparently.” Danny paced, just to avoid having to look Steve in the eye. “Rumor has it your table manners returned to their previous caveman levels as well.”_

_“She’s reporting to you. That’s … insulting.”_

_“You know what’s insulting, buddy? Taking your girlfriend to a drive-in and implying it’s special.”_

_He knew Cath had to have been desperate to call him, and after the long day she’d had, he couldn’t blame her. But Danny also hoped this wouldn’t be a recurring event. He was not actually a couples counselor, and he would go off his nut if he had to coach Steve through his screw-ups again. He really would._

_“I know what special is, Danny.” Steve stood, rounded the desk and sat on the edge of it. “Special is my dad’s fishing spot. The petroglyphs. Special is it meaning something.”_

_“So if you know, then what the hell were you doing this morning?” Danny punctuated that with a few choice gestures. “You are giving me an ulcer.”_

_“Danny, Danny, relax. Don’t worry, I got this.” Steve gave Danny one of his patented and trademarked heavy-lidded sex smiles. “It’s all part of my plan.”_

_Danny gave up pacing, slouched into the couch and he would never admit that it was for the sheer fact his legs went all wobbly at that particular moment. He couldn’t admit it._

_“Plan. He has a plan,” Danny muttered and ran a hand through his hair._

_“You’ll see,” Steve said. “It’s covered. Your teachings have not been ignored, Jedi Master Danno.”_

_“Oh, shut up, you.”_

Yep, delusional. One day he thought Steve was acting a bit territorial over him or maybe even jealous around a bunch of underwear-clad models Danny neither stood a chance with, nor wanted even a little despite carefully constructed outward appearances. Another day, Steve was showing up at the beach in a goddamn tuxedo with eyes only for Catherine. It had to be, then, that his own frustrations were manifesting in wishful thinking. He was seeing subtext where he wanted it. 

Shit, though, Steve looked ridiculous. The bow tie was definitely goofy. Absolutely. Danny plastered a smile on his face as Steve picked Catherine up and draped her legs over his arm. When everyone else hooted, hollered and wolf whistled, he took a swig of beer and tried to decide if the show of suave, debonair and strong was more or less of a turn-on than watching Steve play doting uncle to Grace like she was the only important, beautiful girl in a room full of mostly naked supermodels.

It was a dead heat.

H50H50H50

The right thing to do sometimes sucked. Danny flipped his phone onto the desk and regretted that he’d done it on the phone, at the office. It was a crime of opportunity, their last official check-in, unpremeditated. At least he’d figured out how to do the Skype app thing after the first few tries, so it had kind of been face-to-face.

The fact of the matter was, though, he had no idea if Gabby was coming back anytime soon and it wasn’t fair to make her think that she would find anything on the islands for her as far as he was concerned. As long as he couldn’t shake the stupid twitterpated feeling in his gut when Steve was around (and Steve was always around), he also couldn’t string someone else along. Nothing would come of his more-than-infatuation. He knew that. It still would have been emotionally dishonest to continue his and Gabby’s slow, nice relationship. Slow and nice wasn’t what he wanted, as it turned out.

Gabby hadn’t seemed too surprised or upset, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it.

Danny rested his head on the back of the chair. He felt drained, and really wished he’d been able to make it home before the call. Even without the break-up, personal stuff shouldn’t happen on business time. It wasn’t like he wanted to still be in the office. Screw it. He was going home now, to pour himself a stiff drink and try to figure out how to sort through his stupid emotional issues.

“Hey, Danny, you still … whoa,” Steve said, barreling into his office.

Careful to keep the cringing to internal only, Danny sighed and opened his eyes. Steve had his head poked through the office door, but quickly came in. He seemed pensive, maybe a little worried. He couldn’t honestly say he knew how to read Steve anymore, afraid he was assigning more to expressions than what was actually there. 

“What’s with the …” Steve pointed to his own face, circled his finger around. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Danny said, though he could already tell denial would get him nowhere with Steve. Of course it wouldn’t. “It’s really nothing.”

“I hear the words you’re saying, and yet I don’t believe them.” Steve made his own face, eyes narrowing in assessment. “You want to try that again?”

This was one band-aid he could rip off quickly, he thought. The wound wasn’t going to fester like some of the others he carried, and that right there spoke volumes about his whole relationship with Gabby. He’d thought it was realer than it was. Had been. Danny smiled, or something like it.

“Not really, no. I get the sense you won’t leave it alone until I do, though,” Danny said. “Let’s just say that as of two minutes ago, Gabby and I are no longer Gabby and I.”

“Aw, man.” Steve made some aimless gesture. “That’s rough.”

“No, it’s okay.” He meant it. He couldn’t have Steve looking at him with those soft eyes. “Inevitable, I think.”

“Want to tell me what happened?”

“What I should tell you is that’s none of your business, but that might be hypocritical.” Danny frowned. Now that was one of the festering wounds, so no to the absolute truth. He was good at approximating things. “It was … I didn’t miss her as much as I should have, and I’m fairly sure the feeling was mutual. So, it’s okay.”

Steve nodded like he got it; there was no way he actually could. But then he said, “Sometimes you can do everything right, but it doesn’t work because it’s just not the right person.”

“Yeah,” Danny said, his throat tight as he fell just a little bit harder for Steve and his plan to avoid doing just that fell a _lot_ harder to pieces.

H50H50H50

The case, like all the cases in the past few weeks, had kept his mind off of his varied personal issues. Danny wouldn’t say he was grateful for Governor Denning’s well intended but aggravating (questionably lawful) obstruction or that a couple of unfortunate women got murdered all for the sake of Wo Fat’s agenda, their deaths all but a footnote in the enormous anthology of that whole tale. It had helped, though, to keep him from thinking about the slightly disastrous custody hearing, which in turn kept him from puking every hour on the hour due to sour stomach.

And now it … it … the adrenaline and sheer joy was still running through him nearly an hour after the phone call with good news – the very best news in the world – kept his thoughts from taking shape as anything like close to how he felt. From the moment he heard those amazing words, almost everything had been a blur. Danny had vague recollections of conversing with Steve and the governor while they shared a beer, sure he’d been polite enough to bid Denning a good night after only one bottle, less sure that he hadn’t spent much of the time with a goofy smile on his face and frequent glances at Steve.

As always, what he did remember with needle sharp accuracy was the feel of Steve’s arms around him again, holding on so tight and then slow to lose contact that the mix of confused delusion hit Danny low in the gut. And stayed there through his astronomical high over beating the custody modification. If anything, it might have enhanced that feeling, he realized. It made him want to find excuses to hug Steve, but no, no, he could not make a habit of that. He could very well become addicted. More addicted. 

Danny gazed out to the ocean, the sun past the horizon but there still lingered a few faint traces of light. Though it was silly, it was hitting him all over again that this was home now, the sun and the sand he hated and _Grace_ who he loved so much he didn’t care how much he hated the rest of it. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him, was almost amused at their role reversal. At least he wasn’t staring moodily into the distance with the weight of the world on his shoulders, which, oh. 

“You all right now?” Danny asked. “With Wo Fat escaping again? You know if I’d have hit him, it would have cut him in two and you want him alive.”

Steve made a weird noise, like his throat had closed off before he was done swallowing. Danny turned to look then and, sure enough, Steve was hunched over slightly, beer foaming from the top of his bottle. He resisted the urge to lean over and pound Steve’s back to prevent an actual choking experience.

“Danny, you can’t be serious. Wo Fat is the last thing on my mind anymore. You aren’t moving,” Steve said after he’d wiped a hand across his mouth and set his beer aside. He smiled wide. “You and Grace aren’t leaving. You’re staying here.”

Danny’s mouth went dry. He needed to make his own escape from Steve before he went and did something stupid. He took another swallow of beer, that buzzy feeling in his head only mounting. Was there such a thing as a proximity high? Jesus. 

“I’m getting the impression you’re pleased,” he said dryly.

“Oh, you know. I just broke you in as a partner.” Steve was just as dry. It was what they did. “I really don’t want to go through that all over again with someone else.”

“Ah, detectives like me are a dime a dozen.” He waved a hand. “You’d get over it in no time.”

Steve didn’t respond to that, the silence so heavy Danny shifted uncomfortably. It was like that moment when someone was joking around and everyone was laughing until it went a hair over the line, from funny into really, really not. He didn’t remember ever walking into that trap with Steve before, but as he sat there, he felt it and he wasn’t even sure what he’d said that was so bad. The lightheadedness of his joy faded as the intensity of Steve’s expression seemed magnified thanks to the encroaching shadows. 

“No, Danny,” Steve said after a long pause. His voice was deep and even, but somehow there was an element of brokenness in the tone as well. “I really don’t think I would.”


	4. Chapter 4

When he’d agreed to a more specific commemoration of his shared custody victory a few weeks after the fact, Danny had thought Steve meant it would have been a convenient excuse for all of them to get together, have a backyard barbecue or something. He swore that had been implied, yet when he showed up with Grace in tow, the only one there with Steve was Catherine and no one else had arrived after him. He snagged another beer and watched the pair of goofballs running around on the small patch of sand that was Steve’s beach.

“Go long, Gracie,” Steve shouted, waving his hand outward.

“I don’t know what that means. Is this long?” Grace shouted back, breathless and giggling.

“No, keep going.” Steve tossed the Frisbee, low enough for Grace to catch as she scampered away. He raised his hands in triumph when she leapt and caught it. “Oh! Nice one.”

“Thanks, Uncle Steve.”

Both of them then turned to beam thousand-watt smiles at Danny and Catherine, who were sprawled on the grass as spectators. Danny couldn’t help it. Even with Cath right there, the reminder of how wonderful their relationship was now, the smile on Steve’s face made him feel catawampus in the head and other places.

“Did you guys see that? She’s a natural athlete,” Steve said.

Danny managed to raise a hand to signify his agreement. Steve’s smile had twisted his tongue all up. He decided he had to come up with a name for his condition. It had elevated instead of resolved itself naturally, and therefore deserved a name of its own. What was that thing called, when parts of two names were smashed together to create one cutesy, sickening word? Grace might know. He wasn’t going to ask her, for the risk of a long-winded explanation of some epically romantic PR-generated celebrity couple doomed to fail. That was the kind of thing he could call his state of mind. He was potentially more confused and delusional than ever. Delused. No, confusional. 

He had a chronic case of confusional.

His condition was ninety percent self-inflicted, was the thing he kept telling himself. He’d been wound so tight for so long, it was starting to come out in over-the-top rants about procedure the like of which he hadn’t pulled in almost a year. After Steve’s reckless foray into playing bait for a known assassin who was already gunning for him, Danny’s relief had been so great that he’d covered it by making reactionary, unfunny remarks and ultimately had blurted out that they should celebrate. Celebrate life, keeping Grace, Steve-n-Catherine. The latter wasn’t on Danny’s list specifically, of course, and he didn’t know why it wasn’t putting an end to his Steve-shaped issues the way it ought to. 

Even here and now, the happy couple hosting the happy father/daughter duo in some odd version of a family celebration, his brain took the signals it was receiving and changed them into something else.

It might have something to do with the fact that Danny had (stupidly) proposed that he and Steve go to the Pro Bowl. Together. As friends, but still, that was like starting a diet by baking brownies; it wasn’t the smartest idea he’d ever come up with. Not only had Steve been enthusiastic to the point of being adorable about it, but then he’d stayed the course when Catherine showed up with her own tickets and invite. Danny should have taken the opportunity to back right on out, just gone with Chin instead. He didn’t know why he hadn’t, which was only partially untrue. 

He still wasn’t sure what it meant that Steve had seemed as stunned as him to learn Catherine was a Cowboys fan, though. If Steve had been following the “get to know Catherine and what she likes” advice, then how had he not known she rooted for them? Danny wasn’t even sure Steve had known Cath liked football, period. Danny would have heckled Steve for it, but his delusions had taken over as they were wont to do, about what he wanted it all to mean. He was pretty sure the delusional part of his affliction was taking over his life, lock, stock and barrel.

And then Steve had dislocated his shoulder. Not a life-threatening injury, but it had been enough to make Danny give up coveted fifty-yard line seats. He’d really, really wanted to make the game, but he also really, really _needed_ to make sure Steve was okay and he never wanted to see Steve’s shoulder looking like that ever again.

“Now _you_ go long,” Grace called, pumping her throwing arm like she was cranking it up for extra power.

Steve ran for Grace’s slightly wobbly toss, pitching himself into the air like the landing wasn’t going to sting no matter how he pulled it. He hit the ground on his right side, a spray of sand flitting into the air.

Danny winced, remembered how little it had taken to pop that shoulder out of joint, and he stiffened in alarm when Steve didn’t immediately get up. Before he could make a move, Grace rushed for Steve and fell to her knees on the sand. She stretched out a hand, and as Danny finally got to his feet, Steve came to life with a roar, Grace screamed and ran and they galloped around in a brand new game of zombie tag. Danny sat back down, a little embarrassed that he’d immediately thought Steve had reinjured himself. Stupid confusional. Stupid him for calling it that. 

“I guess I was completely wrong about Steve and kids,” Catherine said offhandedly, her tone warm. “There are some things that can still surprise me about him.”

Danny didn’t look at her, couldn’t bear to see the expression that went along with her words. He knew better than anyone how Steve and Grace together was a sight guaranteed to ping anyone’s heart. It wasn’t limited to Steve, of course. There was something very touching about seeing any adult and child interact with such obvious affection. It was just that some people evoked more of a response, and Steve was one of them, likely because he didn’t look the type to have that softer, sweet side. 

“He’s a surprising guy. And I might be biased, but Grace tends to bring out the best in people,” Danny said, very aware that his biases weren’t reserved for his daughter.

“Yes, she sure seems to.” Catherine laid a hand on his arm and squeezed. “I think she must get that from you.”

At that, Danny did have to turn to glance her. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from Grace and Steve. He was surprised to see Catherine’s attention was already on him and looked like it had been for some time. Damn, he hoped his face hadn’t revealed more than anyone should know. The way Cath studied him was with a wistful, almost sad depth in her eyes.

“What, me? Nah.” Danny brushed aside the insinuation. “I think the opposite might be true. I draw out the bad.”

“Don’t be self-deprecating, Danny. You forget I’ve known Steve for a long time. It isn’t just with Grace and it isn’t just what you did to make him more … civilized in the finer points of dating.” Catherine took a deep breath. “I noticed changes before that, each time I was back on the islands. You remember what he was like when you first met him?”

Danny nodded. Steve had been the very picture of a highly motivated Naval officer, serious and rigid. To his memory, Steve had been an asshole, but he hadn’t been in a great frame of mind himself then so the memory was slanted. If he thought about it, which he never really had, he’d say having Steve in his life had changed him, loosened him up so he could lose some of the resentment that had built for the first six months of his life on O’ahu. He’d brought baggage with him, but instead of unpacking it he’d added a few more suitcases to his load.

“But that wasn’t me so much as it was a major life event for the guy. I didn’t do anything.” Danny shrugged again, but he felt unsettled by her conversational tone for some reason. “Really.”

“You’re being modest again, which doesn’t really suit you. Your influence doesn’t have to be active meddling to just _be_ ,” Catherine said. “That’s kind of my point.”

Danny couldn’t figure out why she sounded so sad when she said that, wasn’t sure he wanted to know, and their conversation was interrupted by Steve and Grace tromping back to them and demanding ice cream to replenish all the energy they’d just expended.

And ice cream, as Danny well knew, was the answer to many things.

H50H50H50

The sun beat down on the top of his head, and Danny felt baked from the inside and out. He didn’t try to pretend the feeling had nothing to do with thoughts wandering back to that evening on the beach with Catherine, the reappearance of cargo pants on a certain highly-toned member of their task force, or the thigh holsters strapped to either leg that he’d somehow failed for years to notice made him libidinous.

This. 

This was precisely why he had to pull his shit together. This was so far from the time and place for his mind to engage that way. Danny shook his head, muttered under his breath and tightened the straps of his body armor. His skin, already prickly with heat, started to itch underneath it and his button-down almost instantly. This bust could not be over soon enough. 

“You okay, Danny?” Kono asked as she nudged him with a bony elbow. “You look a little off.”

Standing in the hot sun surrounded by gigantic metal shipping containers and _Steve_ , he defied anyone to not be off. When he glanced at Kono, of course she looked cool as a cucumber and not at all affected by the heat. He took a moment to resent her _kama'aina_ side. Danny thought he was never going to become acclimated to this climate, which would suck because it was home now. No ifs, ands or buts. He shifted when Steve bent over to secure a wicked looking knife to his calf holster, butt on full display. It was like he’d been reading Danny’s mind.

Also, what the fuck was with all the holsters and why were they so … uh, wow? 

“I’m fine,” Danny said, and if he sounded like a dying frog, Kono didn’t seem to notice. “I just want to nail these bastards.”

Having collaborated on it himself, he only half listened as Steve highlighted the plan of attack to Duke Lukela and the other HPD officers backing up Five-0 today. Every single law enforcement officer on Sand Island had the same goal: to bring down the motherfuckers who’d been supplying some very big, very ugly guns to people who’d engaged in one of those public gunfights he hated so much. Only this time, there had been casualties. He clenched his jaw and found something new not to think too closely about – that little boy, or his grieving parents. At least that was a more appropriate thought to have stuck in his head, in the sense it spurred his need to do this with less discretion for the health of the suspects than was suggested in the manuals. He doubted there was a single person here not on the exact same page. 

By all appearances, Adam Noshimuri was trying to turn the Yakuza legitimate, something Danny wasn’t convinced of but wanted to believe for Kono’s sake, which left a wide door open for motivated assholes. Tony Damasco had decided he wanted the gig, but he was sloppy and not altogether cut out for the illegal arms business. The chance to stop him before he figured his shit out was one they had to take, and with assistance from the LA office of the ATF, their case was as solid as any. They’d moved on less.

They were doing a standard grid, movements limited by their location. That wasn’t a huge concern; by the same token, there wasn’t really anywhere for Damasco and his crew to go except in the water. The shipping containers were easily divided, though Kamekona had told them the shipment was coming in via Chinese cargo ship _Bao Da Shan_ and their focus was obviously there. To tell the truth, Danny would have felt better if this were happening in a warehouse. The space in a warehouse might be vast, but it was finite and much easier to box trap their perps in. 

“Okay, go,” Steve said, gesturing for everyone to begin sweeping the port in the patterns he’d dictated, just in case they had the location wrong. “Danny.”

It was second nature for Danny to fall in step behind Steve, every previous distraction gone from his thoughts. He had a job to do. Providing Kamekona had given them good information, and there was no reason to suppose otherwise, this arms shipment was the granddaddy of all arms shipments. He was under no impression that gun running would ever stop even with a huge win here today – if all it took were major busts, cops would have been out of work long before he’d joined the force – but any dent they could put in it mattered. It had to. 

After a few minutes, Steve raised a fist and pressed himself against a container wall. Danny mirrored the position, waited for Steve to signal the next move. He heard voices, none of them particularly quiet, which sounded roughly fifty feet from their current locale, at the end of the long row of metal crates. He also heard the soft laps of water against the piling and dock. He nodded when Steve pointed for him to go left around the far side of the containers, headed there without hesitation. He knew the others were close without having to add to the quiet radio chatter. He and Steve were close enough to bring attention to themselves if they weren’t quiet and careful, and Chin and Kono couldn’t be far behind. 

Danny edged forward, cautious but quick to keep pace with Steve, who was looping around the other direction. From where he was on the water side of the very last row of shipping containers, he could see the _Bao Da Shan_ now, and definitely got glimpses of several of Damasco’s men. He murmured as much to the others, pictured exactly where they were in relation to his position the best he could recall from the overhead shots they’d used of the port this morning. Perfect recall was more Steve’s thing. A trail of sweat slinked down the middle of his back. The first shot rang out before he had any kind of real visual on the core of the operation, and he had no way to know who it had come from.

“Five-0, drop your weapons,” Danny heard Steve shout. 

The only answer was more gunfire. Danny ran quickly but cautiously, not going to leave his partner without backup for any longer than he already had. The moment he got his eyes on what was happening, he saw one thing and one thing only – Damasco making a break for it, heading straight for him. _Good, you asshole_ , he thought and ducked where he hoped he was out of Damasco’s sight. This was going to be too damned easy. It was. He took some pleasure in smashing Damasco’s nose with the butt of his rifle, moving quickly to kick the guy’s newly acquired merchandise out of reach, though he was down for the count.

“You’re under arrest. You have the right to remain unconscious,” Danny muttered, but his attention had immediately returned to the slightly controlled chaos ahead of him. 

In an instant, he saw what was going to happen and knew he was the only one who did. Perched on top of a shipping container was one of Damasco’s men, weapon at the ready. His heart raced. Oh, no. Not today, not ever. Danny didn’t know if he had time and instinct had him shout as he drew a bead the same instant the perp took his first shot.

“Steve, down!”

Two things happened. Steve ducked as the shot meant for him missed, but not by much, and the guy who’d shot at him switched aim. Danny was without cover himself, he realized a hair too late, stupid, stupid. Though he took his shots and was sure he made his target, it wasn’t before his target also shot wildly in his direction. The first bullet hit him low on the vest and knocked the breath out of him like a punch to the diaphragm. The second, slightly higher, made him stagger back a step or two. The third came as a fiery mass of agony in his left leg. Though he catalogued all of it, he couldn’t figure out what any of it meant. Couldn’t get any air into his lungs, couldn’t feel his limbs. He felt detached. His … everything was a jumble and the world started to go grey. He finally gasped in a shaky breath, but his legs wouldn’t hold.

The sensation of falling down a great hole, distressed calls of his name, twice in rapid succession the way Steve always did when Danny was in trouble, then he hit the water and, finally, there was nothing.

H50H50H50

He knew he had to be dead, but he was certain he was alive. That wasn’t accurate. He couldn’t get his thoughts around what he felt exactly, like he was stuck someplace neither here nor there. Everything was vague, out of focus. His arms and legs were numb. He couldn’t move, didn’t have the energy to give it much effort. So he drifted in the haze of being and not being, had the fleeting impression that not being was the nicer of the two options and so stayed there.

Slowly, time indeterminate, he began to sense things. He smelled crisp air with an underlying stench of sweat, days old and rancid, then soap and savory smells as well, a weird bouquet of pleasant and nauseating. He saw brightness on the other side of eyelids that would not open, that he wasn’t even positive were attached to him. He heard the hum of steady, distant conversation, and mechanical whistles and beeps and…

_“You’re going to wake up.”_

…a voice he thought he should know, hollow and odd…

_“You’re going to let me have the chance to tell you that I figured it out. All of it. I got there, but I wasn’t sure, and now … now I need to be sure, you hear me?”_

…but, no, now he recognized it. He knew the voice and knew it well.

_“You’re the only one who can help me with that, you fucker, and you almost got yourself killed. So, wake the hell up.”_

Danny heard.

H50H50H50

Maybe it was a cliché, but he felt someone’s eyes on him before he opened his. The fact he was bedridden in the hospital made the chances pretty high that someone would be there, if not staring at him outright, then at least shooting him occasional glances. Danny was touched, honestly, by the closeness of the people he’d found himself associated with and their genuine care. He doubted he’d ever be a fan of Hawaiian life in general no matter how long he was here, the sun and sand, but he had to admit the people were some of the best in the world.

He took quick stock of his aches and pains, better than they’d been yesterday, but he still felt like he’d been chewed up and spat out. Situation normal. He opened his eyes, saw who was there with him, had a familiar twinge in his gut. All fucked up.

“Hey,” Danny said. “That’s creepy, you know.”

Considering that the first time he’d woken his lungs had felt like they’d been extracted from his body via his esophagus, Danny didn’t doubt the story the others had told him. The deep bruises to his torso and hole in his leg were compelling evidence as well. More than any of his physical ailments, though, it was the way everyone kept looking at him that told him his experience had put him closer to death than he could fully grasp, having gone through it unconscious and on assisted breathing for the worst parts.

“I’m not apologizing for visiting my injured partner,” Steve said, but where he’d been gazing intently at Danny’s face a moment ago, he averted his eyes now.

Danny couldn’t remember more than bits and pieces of the actual events that had put him in the hospital. Memory gaps, he had been informed, were common for trauma survivors. Getting shot three times and then sucking in enough sea water to be technically dead for a while counted as trauma big enough he was going to be off duty for a good long while and part of his recovery plan included psych time. He wasn’t sure he was the only one who should partake in that particular therapy. He slid his eyes to Steve, who’d been both vigilant and aloof at the same time for the past three days, mostly silent and in the back of the crowd. 

“Wasn’t asking you to.” 

Danny cleared his throat, which still felt chafed, raw. He eased up so he was half-sitting, fumbled for the pitcher of water and sighed when Steve slapped his hands away and poured a glass. His hand shook a little as he grabbed the glass and took a few sips. The water helped, for the time being.

“Been here long?” Danny asked. 

It didn’t surprise him much that what was clear in his mind about the incident was shouting for Steve to watch his back, and Steve’s voice calling to him as he went down. Danny had become something of a one-trick pony in the last few months. 

“Few minutes,” Steve said, staring at the foot of Danny’s bed.

That was a lie if he’d ever heard one. Steve had a settled-in look about him, a hint of discomfort reflected in stiff shoulders and subtle shifts on the chair. Danny squinted, pursed his lips and didn’t call Steve on it. He could add a more agreeable feeling to the laundry list of bad, knowing Steve cared enough to spend his spare time there, watching him sleep. A return of his delusions seemed right on schedule, and he had nowhere to go to escape them.

Naturally, his first solitary visitor had to be Steve. In the whirlwind of the past two days, filled with frequent tests and a revolving door of medical personnel, there hadn’t been a time when he was alone with any one of his friends. Not even Grace’s visits had been solitary affairs, tearful as they were, and all he could do was thank fuck this had happened after he’d won the custody case. Through it all, Danny had this itch under his skin that he couldn’t quite explain, a feeling that he needed to apologize for getting himself almost killed, to all of them, but mostly to Steve. Of all of them, it was Steve’s face that was the most pinched, his countenance the most rigid with tension. 

“Uh,” Danny said. “Here’s the thing. I’m pretty sure you couldn’t feel worse than I do at getting shot and whatever, though in my case it’s mostly literal, but you’ve had this look on your face since I woke up, man. I’d feel better if you’d just get whatever you’ve got on your mind out in the open. Now that we’re alone, you don’t have to worry about doing it in front of anyone.”

Steve snapped his focus back to Danny’s face from the vague stare he’d aimed at Danny’s feet. His eyes were stupidly wide, looked deep and tired from the circles of dark under them, but for a moment there was also something else. It was remarkable, really, how shuttered he looked from one blink to the next, and that mystery emotion vanished.

Danny had that déjà vu feeling. He knew that look, it was the one he hadn’t catalogued which was something he almost felt like he had to do and soon. He didn’t know why, but it seemed important. He frowned, let his head fall onto the pillow. He was already getting tired. Damn it, he was getting out tomorrow if he could prove he was well enough to care for himself at home.

“What?” Steve said. He reached for Danny’s glass and took a few gulps of water. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know if there’s anyone who likes getting shot less than I do, trust me, and I’m sorry it happened.”

“Jesus.” Steve ran a hand through his hair and down his face. “Danny, shut up. Just, please stop.”

“I didn’t have adequate cover, which is pretty ironic, huh?” Danny said. “Me, the king of duck and cover, letting himself stand out in the wide open spaces.”

“Seriously, shut up. Right now.”

Steve stood, the chair scraping loudly across the tiled floor. He had his back to Danny and didn’t move for a few seconds, shoulders rising and falling with each audible breath. Finally, he moved to the end of the bed, leaned against it as if for support, knuckles on the mattress on either side of Danny’s feet.

“None of us had cover from that guy. He was bird’s eye, and if you hadn’t … Danny, you painted a damned target on yourself to do it, but if you hadn’t shouted he probably would have nailed me in the back of the head. You don’t get to apologize for that. I don’t want your apology and I don’t want to hear anything about it. I was there, I saw you go down, I pulled you out of the water and I sat here and watched you lie half-dead for two days, Danny, two fucking days. I do not need any more of a recap than what I see every time I close my eyes.” Steve’s voice rose in volume, and he was almost shouting. “My _expression_ that bothers you so much has got nothing to do with that.” 

From silent and broody at the back of the room to this was almost too much to take. Danny huffed out a snort, though, at another obvious lie. Steve wasn’t quick to work up into this kind of froth – he preferred action to speech nine times out of ten – which meant this had been building for days and the only thing that had kept it in was lack of privacy. 

Steve ducked his head at Danny’s unspoken skepticism, then glanced up. And if the thousand words hadn’t already been said, the picture he presented would have done just the same. 

Danny wasn’t sure what was going on, but he felt the prickle of adrenaline on his suddenly clammy palms. That damnable face of Steve’s would be the death of him long before a bullet or the untrustworthy depths of the sea. He was pretty sure he didn’t have the energy to disguise the effect it had on him, so it was good Steve was in this mood of his. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Okay,” Steve said, sheepish now. “It might be somewhat related to that.”

This was better. This Danny could work with. This was just what they did, and all he could really ever expect. This … was not better. 

“Really,” Danny managed to say lightly. “Wouldn’t have guessed that by your calm demeanor.”

“Give me a break. This was a big deal.” As if his own energy had been depleted by the small tirade of his, Steve rounded back to the chair and slid into it. “You fucker, you almost died on me.”

The _you fucker_ struck a chord in Danny, gave him a similar odd inkling that he should know what it meant. That maybe Steve’s look had more to do with whatever that intangible thing was, and if that were true, why had he seen it or versions of it several times over? His head, previously undamaged, started to throb just a little. He couldn’t think about any of that yet. He hated seeing Steve slouched over like that.

“You know, you could just say you were worried, skip all the dramatics.” Danny grinned with as much sincerity as he could. He slid a sidelong glance at Steve and patted his hand. “It’s okay to admit it.”

It worked.

“Of course.” Steve nodded and the corners of his lips tipped up, but the teasing didn’t seem one hundred percent there yet. “The way you do when you think I’ve done something to endanger my life?”

“I am nothing if not in touch with my emotions, babe,” Danny said. It was just that lately his emotions made him slightly touched in the head. He spread his arms wide. “Be enthralled.”

Steve barked out a sharp laugh, but in a direct contrast his eyes were suddenly wet. He shook his head, lifted his hands and pressed the butts of them against his eyes like he could keep it all together if only the wetness didn’t ever escape. When he dropped his hands, he looked as wrecked as he ever had. 

“I’ve come to the conclusion that I have no other choice,” Steve said, eyes shining.

Frankly, Danny thought it would have been a miracle if he weren’t confusedly delusional by now when Steve looked and said things like that. He manfully ignored the flippy feeling in his gut, which, it seemed, he was still good at even while recovering from a near death experience. He took a deep breath.

“So if not an apology, then what is that look you keep giving me?” 

“There _is_ something I need to talk with you about, but, ah…” Steve slid to the edge of the chair. “It can wait. Not here, okay? I don’t want to do it here.”

Danny frowned, and was about to push Steve for more information, because one didn’t say shit like that and not follow through, when his respiratory therapist came in to check his lungs one last time. She wouldn’t take later for an answer, and as she bustled around him, Steve stood up and headed for the door.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow and give you a ride home,” Steve said, and he left and took that confounding expression of his with him.

H50H50H50

Danny squinted at the window, tried to gauge the time of day. It was impossible, he decided, to know how long he’d been out. He didn’t actually know what time it had been when Steve dropped him off. He arched his back, spread his arms and legs out as far as he could and stretched muscles and joints that had stiffened over the course of his sleep. His back popped in several places, but for the first time his achy bruises felt almost good. He wasn’t going to admit it out of sheer stubborn will and fear he’d be carted back, but the excursion from the hospital to his apartment had been an exhausting one in more ways than one, and all of it was somehow still on his mind despite the nap.

Physically, he hadn’t quite anticipated the depth of discomfort from the leg wound once he was ambulatory for more than a few minutes at a time. The leg had sustained an injury that had missed anything vital but had still torn a decent hole in his thigh, which was bad enough as far as he was concerned. Anytime a tiny projectile embedded into one’s flesh was one time too many. That coupled with the still tender bruises on his chest and sore ribs from the resuscitation efforts (Danny wasn’t really ready to think about that; he’d save it for the shrink visits), and he was still moderately miserable in every state except unconsciousness. Again, he wasn’t going to let that be known.

Mentally, he was frustrated. After the way Steve had hinted he had something major to discuss just before leaving Danny alone with that hadn’t helped matters. He had slept fitfully last night. All attempts to wheedle out Steve’s intended topic of conversation on the way from the hospital to his apartment had resulted in enigmatic smiles and vague brush-offs about it not being the right setting, as if ninety-nine percent of their conversations didn’t take place in moving vehicles of some sort. He’d even resorted to three-year-old behavior, repeating Steve’s name until Steve had calmly switched the radio on to that godawful station he loved to aggravate Danny with and that Danny secretly didn’t hate as much as he pretended to. 

Anyway, add the mental and physical laundry list together, and it had left him shorter on temper than usual. He’d barely grunted a thanks to Steve before he collapsed into his own bed about a minute after he made it into his apartment, already clothed in a T-shirt and comfortable pajama bottoms for the quick, direct trip home. The floaty feeling in his head hadn’t prevented him from hearing Steve murmur something low and quiet to him as he slipped under. 

Now he was awake and the déjà vu feeling lingered. The sound of Steve’s voice, if not whatever it was he’d said, seemed almost comforting.

He rolled over cautiously, then sat and debated if he needed the cane or not. He’d already figured out putting full weight on the left leg was unwise, but the cane seemed overkill in the confined space of his small apartment. Danny got up and hobbled to the bathroom to piss and freshen up a little. A shower would be bliss, but he wasn’t in the mood to change his bandage just yet. As soon as he drank water from his cupped hands, his stomach growled its need for attention. Hungry stomach trumped clean skin. He’d showered last night. He was fine. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, and lifted his T-shirt to check out the color status of his various bruises. They were all still deep purple. His gaze stayed longest on the one dead center on his chest, the way the bruising spread out like tendrils.

 _“You fucker, don’t you fucking die on me, Danny.”_

The voice rang in his head, like an echo. And then, more. 

_“I figured it out. All of it. You’re the only one who can help me. Wake the hell up.”_

Danny dropped the T-shirt back down, stared straight into the mirror instead, but didn’t see anything, really. He didn’t know where those words had come from, jagged and full of pain, but he knew who’d spoken them and he was starting to think, was maybe afraid that he was not as confused as he had led himself to believe.

Apparently, bathroom revelations were a new thing of his. 

He was such a headcase, and as he nudged the door all the way open, Danny swore he smelled toast and something richer as well, and both confirmed his fragile mental health. Just because he was hungry, that didn’t mean there was automatically food. After a second, though, he was sure he wasn’t imagining the scents. The clink of glasses bumping together came next and he seriously doubted anyone would break in to make him toast, so he shuffled toward the noises and smells unarmed. 

Halfway between the bathroom and the kitchen was when it hit him as suddenly as the memory of words he was now sure had been spoken when he’d been mostly dead, or recovering from the same. It almost halted him in his tracks. The whole time he’d been in the hospital, he’d had visits from many people. Grace and Steve and Chin and Kono, naturally, but Kamekona had also popped in once or twice, Max had come and brought his girlfriend with him, which had been a very surreal experience. Hell, his daughter’s troop leader, Madeleine, had stopped by once during a work break, gave him attitude and soft eyes to counter the barbs. 

“I know you have a job you could be doing right now,” Danny said, leaning on the doorframe for support. He enjoyed the view while he could, his own kitchen warrior prepping him lunch or dinner. “Have you been here this whole time?”

“No, I ran out for groceries,” Steve said without turning around. “You had shit in your fridge and I knew you wouldn’t feel like going for them yourself.”

“Uh. Thanks.”

All of those people. But not once had Catherine come to see him, or been with Steve when he had. Not once had Steve even referenced her in conversation. Danny chewed on the corner of his lip and stared at the back of Steve’s head. 

“Sit before you fall down.” Steve ladled something from a pot on the stove into a bowl and set it on the table, next to a plate of neatly stacked toasted bread. “Have some soup. Bread. You’re hungry, right?”

“Yeah.” Danny eased into the chair, the steamy broth hitting him in the face. His throat felt dry. A glass of water appeared in front of him. “I’ll ask again. Don’t you have better things to do right now?”

“Nope,” Steve said. He portioned out his own soup and sat at the table with Danny. “Eat, okay?”

Part of Danny wanted to launch into his own version of Twenty Questions, but hunger overrode it for the time being. The soup wasn’t much different to the hospital food he’d subsisted on for days, yet it was so much better. He made an appreciative sound in the back of his throat, and for the next few minutes they ate in companionable silence. He had this idea he should be uncomfortable as he secretly had been for so long around Steve, but he wasn’t. 

After Danny finished as much as he could, Steve gathered up the dirty dishes and began cleanup. He watched for a moment, strangely at peace in one blink of an eye and in the next, in total, internal bedlam. He left Steve to his task and headed for a more reclined position in his living area, sank into the trusty old sofa. 

“This is all, uh, very domestic of you,” Danny said after a particularly loud clatter. He swallowed and forged ahead, took a chance. “Wouldn’t you rather spend time with your girlfriend than play nursemaid to someone who doesn’t need one?”

Nothing but silence came from the kitchen, until Steve came out of the room. That look was back, and maybe, _maybe_ he was figuring it out.

“No, not really,” Steve said. He rubbed his hands down the front of his pants, those stupid white ones again. He sat on the sofa, but didn’t sprawl as he usually did. He turned his head toward Danny, but didn’t look directly at him. “I haven’t meant to drag this out, I’m just … a little uncertain how to start.”

Normally, this would have been where Danny had made up some bullshit nonsense about big bad Navy SEALs who should have had the uncertain pounded right out of them when they were still in diapers. He kept his mouth shut. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Danny.” Steve held up a finger as if to nip an objection in the bud. “And don’t tell me I do or the ways I can make it happen. Truthfully, it’s been a while since I’ve had a girlfriend, but I officially stopped having the one who never _really_ was six days ago.”

Six days ago, when he’d been shot again. Oh. Oh, shit, this was happening. Was this happening? Danny straightened.

“Steve,” Danny said. “I didn’t…”

“No. Let me get this all out. This isn’t going to be a conversation so much as a confession, okay, so I need you to listen.” Steve paused, as if waiting for Danny to try to speak again. “I know you wanted to help, all that stuff with Catherine, and you did, Danny. You really did. I did it all, too, and I thought it worked. I convinced myself it did.” 

Steve stood up, paced in front of the sofa once, then sank back down.

“But thing is, I had to think about it. Every move I made, Danny, was a conscious effort. And eventually, I figured out that most of that stuff you tried to get me to do to be a better boyfriend for Cath was stuff I had already been doing. I just hadn’t been doing them with _her_ and all of it came as second nature with this other person. I was pretty sure, then, that I could follow every guideline in every dating book on the planet and it still wouldn’t work with Catherine. I care about her, but I could have gone my whole life not knowing the name of her first pet was Trixie and been fine with it. She wasn’t the right one.”

Steve finally looked at him, with those eyes, that face. Danny was a fucking goner and he didn’t even care. The words Steve was saying were registering, but only behind a steady hum in his ears. If he woke up and found out this was a very detailed dream, he was going to be so angry. 

“Steve,” Danny said. “You…”

“No, _you_. Danny, I know things about you. I know your favorite color is yellow, because that is the color of the blanket Gracie was wrapped in when you brought her home from the hospital when she was born. I know you sing along to IZ’s version of _Somewhere Over the Rainbow_ when you think no one’s looking. I know you give the best damn hugs in the world.” Steve smiled. His eyes darted across Danny’s face, searching. “But there’s one thing I don’t know. I’m not sure … I have to … can I just?”

Danny licked his lips, maybe he nodded. Whatever he did, Steve’s posture relaxed and he reached, right hand threading through the hair at the back of Danny’s head and pulling them closer. He ignored the twinges of pain and went with it, of course he did, leaning into a kiss that started tentative, almost sweet. That physical _something_ he had always felt for Steve was confirmed the moment their lips parted almost in unison, all raw chemistry he had experienced so rarely in his lifetime, the kind he never realized he was starved for until he tasted it again.

He pushed at Steve, urged him to lie back, gasped a little into the kiss when he felt how aroused Steve was against him. Danny didn’t want there to be room for thought, and yet it clicked in his head, _yesyesrealyes_ , and ended abruptly in a moan as Steve grabbed at his thighs to help get them both situated better. He pulled back, slightly breathless, spiking hurt in his leg reminding him – and Steve, by the way he looked both shattered and worried – that this wasn’t going to go much further, not today. 

It had gone plenty far enough. Jesus, this was not how he’d anticipated anything and he’d never been gladder to be wrong in his life.

“Sorry,” Steve whispered. “You okay?”

“I’m, yes, okay, yeah,” Danny said, but he slumped as his energy waned as suddenly as it had surged. “This is … you have no idea.”

He let Steve gingerly move him so he was lying on his right side, pressed against the sofa back. There was barely room for them on the stupid thing, but Danny didn’t want to mention that as Steve contorted his arms and legs gently around him. He found he didn’t mind the cramped space so much, closed his eyes and rode out the sharp pain in his leg and the renewed ache of his bruises.

“You figured this all out way before I did,” Steve said after a while, “didn’t you?”

“I told myself it was all in my head. There was always this thing, but then it was more than that and I thought I might be projecting,” Danny admitted, voice ragged from pain and pleasure and too long of shoving it all aside. 

He opened his eyes, shifted slightly. Steve was staring at his face like he hadn’t seen it nearly every day for two and a half years. He … this was … surreal, but also pretty fucking fabulous. He felt a sudden stab of guilt that someone else had lost what he was gaining. 

“You and Cath, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s not on you, man. That was inevitable.” Steve smiled. “You might have accidentally facilitated the means to that end, but like I said, all the right moves in the world wouldn’t have kept Cath and me from being really good friends who used to fuck. She’s okay. She’ll be okay.”

Steve got a faraway look on his face, but quickly shook it off. He nudged his right leg between Danny’s, careful not to jostle, while a hand trailed up and down Danny’s back. 

“You’re probably the most aggravating person I’ve ever met, you know that? You’re loud, rude, opinionated, sarcastic, smart, you don’t take my shit without handing me my own shovel, and you’re goddamn beautiful at all of it. You pitched, Danny. I finally caught.” 

Danny swallowed a few times, struggled to rein in the feelings. He thought he felt his feet touching the ground again. This was reality, no delusion in sight. He rested his forehead on Steve’s shoulder. 

“Sweet talker,” he said. “I’ll bet you say that to all the guys.”

Steve’s laugh was a thing of beauty, and Danny hoped he got to spend a whole hell of a lot of time hearing it.


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Folks, for the epilogue, the rating bumps up to explicit...

It had been so long since he’d felt these specific sensations. The pleasure rolled through him and he almost wished he could stay this way forever. His hands fumbled for purchase, left latching onto a slat of the headboard and right clawing at Steve’s shoulder. Danny threw his head back, a low, guttural noise ripping out of him as Steve switched the angle of his thrusts to Perfect. 

“Jesus,” Steve gasped into Danny’s exposed neck, teeth scraping along skin. He slowed his movements a moment to suck gently, not enough to mark, just enough to make Danny hitch his hips even further up. “Danny, Danny.”

Danny’s hand worked down to Steve’s ass, grabbing and yanking his lover back to the headier pace. He tightened around Steve on the next thrust, and with the extra friction bright spots starting to impede his vision. He heard Steve yelp, but it was good, so damn good.

“Give it,” Danny moaned. “C’mon.”

He loved it when Steve lost it, going from steady, controlled rhythm to frantic snaps of his hips. Even without the control, nearly every time Steve plunged into him, his prostate was hit, and fuck, fuck. Danny let go of the headboard and reached for his throbbing cock, stroked himself clumsily while Steve rocked into him. He’d been right on the edge for a while, so all it took was three quick, hard pulls and he spasmed his release. 

Steve had both his arms braced on either side of Danny’s head. A moment, maybe two, after Danny started coming, the left buckled slightly. He let out a whining hum, and followed Danny down, stiff through it and then he let his other arm go and collapsed the rest of the way.

Both of them lay gasping, all sweat and spunk and this, Danny thought, this was disgusting and amazing. After a few moments, Steve gave a few more half-hearted thrusts with his softening cock, like he didn’t want it to end. Overly sensitive, Danny hissed but then hissed more when Steve slid out, eased his legs down and flopped away from him. He let himself drift, barely aware of Steve rolling off of the bed and padding to the bathroom until he was back, a warm washcloth wiping at Danny’s chest, shifting him onto his side and lifting a leg to swipe between his ass cheeks, more to soothe than anything. Danny felt Steve place a quick kiss on the left cheek, and he found it enchanting and embarrassing at the same time. 

“Mmph,” Danny said, waggling a floppy arm. “Come here.”

Steve tossed the dirty cloth away from the bed and snuggled in close, arm thrown over Danny’s middle. Danny would have never guessed in a million years that Steve was a post-coital cuddler, but he could more than live with it. As far as character traits went, it was one he only wanted to foster. He turned his head, caught Steve giving him that look for which he now knew the exact definition. He smiled softly before he kissed Steve, easy and gentle, then let his head drop to the pillow. As he slid into contented sleep, Steve fairly wrapped around him, Danny hazily thought about the art of pitching woo and catching it, and how he and Steve were equal opportunity offenders with both.

Which was exactly how it was supposed to be.


End file.
